Superheroes
by SneekAttack101
Summary: "When you've been fighting for it all your life, You've been struggling to make it right, That's how a superhero learns to fly." Clary is a teenager working at a bar that just wants to go to college. Jace is the young adult who fights for a living, trying to forget his abusive childhood. What will happen when they meet? Will they become the superheroes they were born to be?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! So this is my second fanfiction ever. It's a relatively new idea. It's inspired by the song Superheroes by The Script. It's one of my favorite songs ever. It has a lot of inspirational lyrics and a story that many can relate to. I advise you to listen to the song before you read this story. It will help you appreciate what's happening with the characters and what they're going through. I hope you enjoy!**

 **-SneekAttack101**

* * *

 _All her life she has seen_

 _All the meanest side of me_

 _They took away the prophet's dream_

 _For a prophet on the street_

 _Now she's stronger than you know_

 _A heart of steel starts to grow_

* * *

Clary

I open the door to my room, step inside, then slam it shut. I collapse onto my bed. I lay there for a second, my eyes closed and my mind running. After a few minutes, I stand up and start to take my bartender uniform off. I grab the tips from my pocket and walk over to the locked cabinet in my room. I unlock the door and stare at the money inside. It's a lot, but not enough. I lay down the money I earned tonight and close the cabinet once again.

I look around my room. My gaze falls on a picture of my family. Well, if you can even call them that. We don't get along. On little bit. My parents never give me anything. I always have to earn it or buy it myself. They ignore me and pretend like I don't exist. I don't think I've exchanged words with them in over three months.

I look at the boy next to my parents in the picture. Tall and muscular with a handsome face and white-blonde hair. Pale skin and dark eyes make him even more attractive. Of course, this is according to other girls in my school. Not me. Me having thoughts about my brother like that would be disgusting.

For as long as I could remember, Jonathon has been the favorite child. Always being idolized and talked up by my parents. But all Jon does is get in fights, hook up with girls, and do extremely poorly in school. Some how my parents see him as "The Chosen One." Giving him whatever he wants whenever he wants, leaving me in the dust.

Jon is absolutely horrible to me. He also neglects me, but he does talk to me. He terrorizes me and always tells me that I'm nothing. He's probably right. Jon even started hitting me at one point.

When my parents found out that my brother was too stupid and violent to get into any college with any financial aid, they used all of the money they had saved up for us on him. We were each supposed to get half of the money in the account, but it was all spent on him.

At least when he went to college the abuse stopped.

So I've been working for the past three years as a bartender at a club to try to get into my dream art school. I'm seventeen with no friends, no family, and as of right now, no future.

I feel tears start to form in my eyes. I change out of my uniform completely, sniffling while doing so. When I jump into the shower, the tears I've been holding come out like a waterfall. I sob as the warm water cascades all over my body. Each time I try to stop the tears, a new round begins.

When I'm done crying, I turn off the water and exit the bathroom. I quickly change into my sleep clothes. Then I walk to my window and open it, letting the summer breeze enter my room. Then I slowly walk over to my bed, slip under the covers, and let sleep find me.

* * *

 _All his life he's been told_

 _He'll be nothing when he's old_

 _All the kicks and all the blows_

 _He won't ever let it show_

 _'Cause he's stronger than you know_

 _A heart of steel starts to grow_

* * *

Jace

I deliver the final blow, knocking the guy out for good. I walk over to the hot women overseeing the fight, and she hands me the cash I earned. I walk around her, slapping the girl's ass in the process.

I've been making my money by underground fighting for the last six years. Now I'm twenty one, and still participating. Not only is it good money, but I love the boost of adrenaline it gives me whenever I'm in a fight.

I wipe some blood from my forehead. I suspect my eyebrow split open. Pain doesn't bother me anymore. After having a father that beat you for most of your life, all pain is numb.

I count my earnings as I walk out of the club. Two hundred and sixteen dollars. Not bad for a Tuesday night.

I walk around the city, finally making it back to my apartment. It's nothing fancy, but it isn't horrible either. It's all I need: somewhere to eat, somewhere to sleep, different places to hook up with a girl. The three things I need to be comfortable.

As soon as I enter the apartment, I make my way over to the fridge. I grab a beer and then flop down on the nearby couch.

I sigh and stare at the wall, taking a swig of my beer. My favorite bar got shut down for drug deals a few nights ago. I'm going to need to find a new place to go after kicking ass every night. Plus I need a new selection of females to work with.

I'm not too screwed up. I went to college, but I did drop out after a few years. I don't do drugs, only get drunk once in a while. I'm streetwise, smart, and independent. I blame my messed up childhood for my lifestyle now.

I finish off my alcoholic beverage in no time. I go to the bathroom to clean up any minor injuries I received during any of the fights tonight. Then I enter my bedroom, strip down to my boxers, and crash on the bed. I stare at the ceiling until I feel myself drift off into sleep.

 **A/N: I know, I know. Really short. Sorry about that. But I needed to set up the story. So what do you think? Want me to continue? Please let me know, because I really don't want to waste my time. Abilities is a project that's been making me work hard.**

 **Thank you for checking this story out, and bothering to read the author's note. Hopefully you read the one at the beginning, too.**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments**

* * *

 _Inspired by the song Superheroes by The Script._

* * *

Clary

I finishing buttoning my bartending uniform. I pull on my sneakers and put my hair in a high pony tail. Then I put on a light dusting of makeup. I stand in front of the mirror and straighten my attire.

I quickly look at my watch. It's 7:43. My shift starts at eight. The club is three blocks from my house. If I leave in a few minutes, Magnus won't kill me.

I grab my phone and purse off of my dresser. Then I put a stick of gum in my mouth and apply some chap stick. I take a deep breath and walk out of my room.

I quickly pass through my apartment. I don't see my parents anywhere. I have no idea where they are. I also don't care. They could literally be doing anything. Seeing a movie, meeting with friends, snorting coke, whatever shit they do that I don't care about.

I walk out onto the streets of Brooklyn. The evening summer air is relaxing. I close my eyes for a second and listen to the sounds of the city. There are some times that I love living here. Right now would be one of them. The constant buzz of my surroundings is normal and assuring. As long as I have a constant in my life, I'll be fine.

There are other times I hate the city. An artist can only draw so much man made things. I'm seventeen, and I've never been out of New York City. The country side has only been depicted in pictures. My dream is to attend art school, and then get the hell out of this place. A plan which no one except me knows.

I've arrived at my destination. I look up at the glowing sign that reads Pandemonium. I take a deep breath before entering the club. Even though I've worked here for years, I still get nervous every time I come to work. You never know what's going to happen at a place like this.

I show the bouncer my employee card. He lets me right in. I quickly weave through the dozens of people already here until I reach the bar. I slide behind the counter and look around the club.

Pandemonium is one of the most popular clubs in New York City. Part of it is because of the eccentric manager, Magnus Bane. The place is always crowded and always loud. It's dimly lit with neon glowing lights being the only source of light around. It's quite overwhelming your first time. I've gotten used to the madness.

The bar here is huge. It takes a ton of training to become a bartender. I worked extremely hard to become the best one I could be, seeming that the pay here is great. There's one other bartender working my shift with me. I take one half of the bar, he takes the other half.

After about half an hour, I'm completely absorbed in making drinks. The demand is high and the patience is low. I keep my head down, handing out drinks and accepting my tips.

All the people who come to get their drinks made by me are regulars. They know I do a good job, but I'm not fond of chit chat. I don't know names, but I do know faces. And every single one of them know me.

So that's why I'm completely confused when some guy that I've never seen before comes up to me.

The man has the strangest combination of features I've ever seen: golden hair and golden eyes. He's tan, tall, and muscular. Quite intimidating if you ask me. And he's hot. Holey hell this man is hot. He literally looks perfect in every way.

The new guy slides onto a stool at the crowded bar. He looks at me. "I'll have a scotch neat," he demands. I keep myself from rolling my eyes at his tone.

"Any water?" I ask. The man nods.

"Just a little."

I start making the drink. Scotch neat is pretty easy. I pour the scotch in a glass and add a couple drops of water. Then I hand the man his drink and move on to the next half drunk clubber.

About twenty minutes later, the same golden haired man comes back for another drink.

"Scotch neat?" I ask, taking his glass. The man shakes his head.

"Nah. Bourbon. On the rocks." I grab a new glass and start to make his drink.

"You know," I star before I can stop myself. "I've never seen you around here before." The man raises an eyebrow.

"You're saying you know everyone that goes to this club?" he asks sounding skeptical. I hand him his drink, lingering there so I can look him in the eyes.

"I'm saying that I usually only serve the people that know me. If you know me, you come here for drinks. If not, you go over there." I jerk my thumb in the direction of the other bartender. "That's how it's worked for three years."

"Three years?" the man states, sounding a bit surprised. "You must have started really young." I glare at the man in front of me. Sure, I might only be five feet tall, but I look older than a child, right?

I snap back and look at the man. "For your information, I'm seventeen years old. I'm about to graduate, actually." The man smirks.

"Sorry about that. I just have never seen a seventeen year old as short as you." I narrow my eyes about to retort when I hear a whistle from down the bar. Without responding, I walk over and get the guy a drink.

The next time I look back, the mysterious man is gone. All he left was a twenty dollar tip. I pocket the money and continue to work my shift for the rest of the night, the golden haired man never crossing my mind again.

Jace

I walk out of the club, Pandemonium. A friend of mine recommended the club because of its excellent bar service. And I couldn't agree more. That one girl really knew her stuff. According to her she's been bartending since she was 14, which I'm not sure is even legal.

She really was something. I've never seen a girl as tiny as her. Her red hair and green eyes made her unique. Unlike any other girl I've seen.

I sigh, walking down the streets of New York City. I really hate it here. I wish I had the guts to leave, but the money's good here.

Instead of walking back to my apartment, I find myself on the edge of Central Park. I amble aimlessly up and down the sidewalks until I come across a busker. He's sitting on the ground with a small group of people gathered around. The violin he has in his hands plays a sad melody. I join the group of people and absorb myself in the music. I close my eyes and focus on anything. Anything else except my screwed up past.

I find myself thinking of the bartender again.

I don't even notice that the song is over until the people gathered round start to clap. I open my eyes and look around. It's getting pretty dark out. I drop a couple dollars into the busker's hat and then start the walk home to my apartment.

Music was always important to me. It was the one thing that my father couldn't take away from me. He took my confidence, my pride, my friends, my mother, and my happiness. But he couldn't touch the music that kept me sane. That kept me from going off the deep end.

As I walk, I find myself humming the busker's melody. And soon I'm making up words to the lyric-less song. Trying to find different word combinations to express what I'm feeling right now. I can only make a decent verse or two at the moment. I sigh in frustration and decide to write it down when I get home.

At least I now have a pastime.

Before I get back to my apartment, I stop in a nearby art supply store to grab a notebook. I search until I find a plain black song book and bring it up to the register. I pay for it, trying to ignore the flirty attitude of the cashier. Then I turn around and quickly make my way to the door. I open it and step out, only to have a small body crash into me.

"Sorry," I hear the girl mutter. I look down and recognize the red hair and uniform from earlier tonight.

"No problem, Red," I say in a sweet tone. The girl looks up, shocked, recognizing me.

"What are you doing here?" she stutters. I smirk at her.

"Better question, what are _you_ doing here?" The red head blushes.

"My shift just ended. And I need to pick up a few things." And with that, the small girl pushes past me, avoiding eye contact.

I shake my head, watching as she goes inside of the store. This girl intrigues me. I want to know more about her. Or at least learn her name.

I guess Pandemonium will be seeing a lot of Jace Herondale from now on.

 **A/N: Let me say something: I'm not the one to hang out at bars, so if this isn't accurate, I'm sorry.**

 **You guys are fricken awesome! The feedback I received from the first chapter is enough to really make me want to finish this story.**

 **Thank you for following, favoriteing, and reviewing. Love you all!**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments**

 _This story is inspired by the song Superheroes by The Script_

Clary

I run out of the art store, supplies in hand. I need to work on my portfolio for The Brooklyn Academy of Art. My dream school. I need my work to be as perfect as possible, so I can get as much financial aid as possible.

I still can't believe I've seen the golden man twice tonight. Kind of unlikely. Running into a stranger on the other side of Manhattan? Maybe this guy is stalking me. I hope I don't see him again. From what I could tell, he didn't look too fond of Pandemonium. Hopefully he doesn't come back.

I walk back to my apartment. I go up the stairs and walk to the door. I unlock it and open it as silently as possible. It's almost midnight and if my parents wake up they'll be pissed. To my surprise, the living room light is on and I hear voices coming from inside. I quietly walk around the corner and my mouth opens at the scene.

My parents are sitting on the couch across from a tall figure. Jonathon. They're laughing and talking, cocktails in hand. I try to creep past them and to my room, but I have no such luck.

"Clary!"" Jon exclaims, smirking at me. I force a smile on my face as I look at my brother.

"Hi, Jonathon." He scowls when I call him that. He hates his full name.

"How many times do I have to tell you, little slut? It's _Jon._ " I gasp at his words.

"I'm not a slut," I whisper, barely audible. But Jonathon hears me.

"Well you're certainly dressed like one." I glance down at my uniform. It definitely isn't the most modest thing in the world. Short black skirt and a black button up shirt that shows minor cleavage. I'm required to wear fishnet stockings and heeled boots.

"She goes out like that every night," my mother, Jocelyn, says in a loud whisper that I can hear with no problem.

"It's my uniform," I reply angrily. "It's for my job."

"As what? A hooker?" my brother spits. I hear my father laugh.

My face turns hot and my eyes sting with tears. I turn without another comment and enter my room. I slam the door and collapse on my bed, crying. Why does my family hate me? Usually they just ignore me and pay me no attention. But whenever my brother is around, it becomes so much worse. They attack me along with neglecting me.

I'm not going to lie. I have a terrible home life. I can't say I haven't thought about suicide or self harm, because I have. Plenty of times. But the idea of having a life has kept me sane. Knowing that I can get away from my family, go to art school, and then move away from the city. It's a dream I know I can accomplish.

I take my shoes off and let my hair down. The tears have stopped now, and I just want to go to bed. As I take my stockings off, I look at the calendar on the wall. It's August 23.

My birthday.

I turned 18 today, and no one remembered. _I_ didn't even remember. But it doesn't matter. Because no one wants to celebrate my birth. Not even me.

At least I can legally work as a bartender now.

Magnus hired me to work at Pandemonium when I was fifteen. I was so desperate he gave me the job. He's the reason I even have a chance to go to college. I've worked behind the bar. Cleaning glasses, restocking drinks, checking ID's, little stuff like that. I got paid, but for some reason the people at the bar tipped me, too. They knew I was Clarissa Morgenstern, the little bar girl. That'a how I know a bunch of the people; my regulars. When I turned sixteen, I started my training as an actual bartender. I learned fast, mostly because I knew a lot of the stuff just from watching the bartenders before. Legally, I wasn't allowed to start for two years, but I did a good job. No one questioned me. I never got arrested or charged. And as far as I know neither did Magnus.

I sit down on my bed and look out the window I have in my room. Down below by Central Park, I can barely make out a figure. I grin when I realize who it is.

I quickly change into jeans and a black t-shirt and put on my sneakers. I keep my wild hair down. I wipe away the tears on my face and quickly fix my makeup so it doesn't look like I've been crying. I open my door a crack and glance out into the apartment. The light is off on the living room and my parents' door is closed. I crane my neck and spot Jon sleeping on the couch, snoring. I grasp the key in my hand tighter, and quickly but quietly walk towards the door.

I successfully leave the apartment. I turn on my phone for a second so I can see the time. It's now close to 1:00 in the morning. What is he doing out so late?

I make my way down the stairs and out of the apartment building. I shiver when I step out onto the sidewalk. It's still warm, but the air is colder at night.

I walk a couple blocks until I reach my destination. The busker is sitting on a park bench, violin in hand, but not playing anything.

"Hey, Simon," I call out. The busker turns around. I see a genuine smile on his face.

"What's up, Clary?" I roll my eyes and pull him in for a hug.

I met Simon a few years ago. I was fourteen, he was sixteen. He was playing his violin with a bunch of people gathered round. I came up to him and we started talking. I learned that busking was his way of saving up for college, like mine was bartending. He's my only friend and the person I trust most in this world.

Simon is tall and thin, with shaggy brown hair and glasses. He always wears plaid shirts and jeans.

"How have you been?" he asks. I let out a dramatic sigh.

"Works been busy, my parents have been neglectful. What else is new?" He ruffles my hair.

"Any interesting work stories?" I'm about to say no, but I remember the blonde man that I met.

"Yeah, actually," I say. "I met someone new at the bar." Simon lets out a huge gasp and staggers backwards. I giggle.

"You mean, someone who's not a regular?" he says. I nod.

"He's the strangest guy. Actually talked to me." I sit down on the park bench and Simon sits next to me. "And he has the most unique combination ever. Golden hair and golden eyes." Simon snaps his fingers.

"Really tall? Really tan? Kind of looks like a god?" I nod. "I saw him today." I turn to my friend.

"Seriously?"

"Uh huh. I've seen him around this area before. He used to hang out at that bar that shut down last week. But today was the first time he stopped by."

"The weirdest thing was, I also ran into him at the art store." Simon raises his eyebrow.

"So we have another crazy artist in Manhattan, huh?"

"We're all over the place."

I laugh for the first time today. I love hanging out with Simon. He always knows how to make me feel better.

I feel my phone buzz. I take it out of my pocket and see I have a text from Magnus. I have to take the extended shift tomorrow night. I groan and put my phone back. Then I turn to Simon and smile apologetically.

"I have to go. Magnus wants me for the extended shift. That means early to get there, late to leave." I stand up and so does Simon. I hug him extra hard and try to bury myself into my friend's warmth. We pull apart and I'm about to start walking away, when Simon pulls something out of his bag.

"Happy birthday, Clary." I gasp when I see a brand new sketchbook with a bow on it. I feel myself start to tear up.

"Simon, this must have costed a fortune. You didn't have to-"

"Relax, Clare-Bear. My girlfriend bought it. I'll tell her you said thank you." I smile at him and pull him in for one last hug. Then I kiss him on the cheek and start back to my apartment.

My birthday really wasn't a bust after all.

 **A/N: No Jace this chapter. (Sigh). But you do get a glimpse into Clary's personnel life. So that's something, right?**

 **Thank you all for following, favoriting, and reviewing. New updates will come! I promise!**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments**

* * *

 _This story is based on the song Superheroes by The Script_

* * *

Clary

I rip the paper out of the book, crumple it up, and throw it in the trash. The wind blows my long red hair into my face once again. I take the rubber band off of my wrist and loosely tie my hair back. Then I turn my attention back to my blank page.

Tapping my pencil to my lip, I try to find something that inspires me. Something I haven't drawn yet.

Almost all day I've been trying to come up with ideas for my portfolio. So far I have nothing. And I have to get to work in less than an hour, since Magnus wants me there at five instead of seven. ( **A/N: I know I said previously that her shift starts at 8, but I changed it to 7. Sorry if that confuses you!)** And instead of it ending at 11:45, I have to stay until one in the morning. I sigh. I'm not getting anything done today.'

I look up and out at the view of New York City from the fire escape right out my window. Everything I see is something that's already been transferred to my paper before. I want to draw something different for my art portfolio.

I sit and think for a while. Then I finally have the decency to check my watch.

"Shit," I mutter, seeing it's already 4:45. I jump up and crawl back through my window. Then I quickly get changed into my uniform, and throw my hair into a high ponytail, like always. I grab my keys and my phone and silently make my way out of the apartment. Or at least try to. Because my brother is sitting in the living room, looking as if he was waiting for me.

"Where are you going?" he asks in an icy tone. I try not to divert my gaze from his dark eyes.

"I have work," I say, my voice wavering slightly. Jon looks unconvinced.

"Where do you work?" he demands. Oh no. If I tell him he'll definitely show up and make my life hell. If I don't tell him, I don't know what his reaction would be. And if I lie... I don't want to think of the consequences I might face.

"It's a club," I say, swallowing my fear. "On 52nd Street. The one with the free shots from 9 to 12." Okay, the last part was a lie. That club is a little ways away from Pandemonium. I think about correcting myself, but instead I continue to look my brother in the eye.

He seems to buy it, because he nods his head. I make a quick dash to the door, running out of the apartment building as fast as possible.

I jog to Pandemonium, trying not to fall in the boots I'm wearing. I enter the club at just before five, making my way to the bar. The place isn't crowded yet. The club opens really early; at seven o'clock. But the bars open three hours before then. That's one of the reasons why Pandemonium is so popular. You can literally party for hours on end.

I glance to the right and smile, seeing that the other bartender on this shift is Maia. She's probably the closest thing I have to a friend at work. We talk sometimes, at bar service is always great when both of us are on the clock.

Maia waves when she sees me, and I politely smile back. Then I tighten my ponytail, straighten my uniform, wash my hands, and the evening begins.

I focus on my job, trying to forget everything that has happened in the last two days. My brother's arrival, my parents acting like complete jerks to me, and my utter lack of inspiration for my portfolio.

Nothing interesting happens in the first few hours of my work.

I hand one of my regulars, Hannah, a sangria, when I hear a familiar voice.

"I'll have a rusty nail." I look up in shock as the golden haired man slides into an empty bar stool. I snap out of my surprise quickly, grabbing the Drambuie and Scotch Whiskey. I pour the liquor over ice and then grab a slice of lemon. I serve the drink and try to ignore him, but of course he has to try to talk to me.

"You looked a little shocked there," he says, leaning forward against the bar. I give a half smile.

"Just a little surprised to run into you yet again," I reply, wiping down the counter in front of me so I'm not just standing there.

"Yeah. I was surprised to see you last night again, too." The golden haired man takes a sip from his drink. I can't help notice how defined his jaw line is. "What were you doing there anyway?" I hesitate, contemplating if I should tell this stranger what I was doing last night.

Oh what the hell.

"I was picking up some art supplies for my portfolio," I answer. Then I get a drink order from another guy real quick and collect my tip. The man still decided to talk to me.

"An artist, huh? What school are you planning on going to?"

"Brooklyn Academy of Art," I say. Why am I telling him this?

The man smirks. "Brooklyn, huh? Getting tired of Manhattan?" I give a tight smile.

"Well, I haven't left Manhattan my entire life. Yeah, I'm getting a little sick of it." His eyebrows shoot up. He finishes taking a sip of his drink before saying something.

"You've never left Manhattan?" I shrug.

"Never had a real reason to. My parents would never let me." I wince at my last words. I hope he doesn't ask about my home life.

Thankfully he doesn't. It looks like he's about to, but some blonde with outrageously big breasts comes up and sits on his lap. I take the opportunity to move down the bar an work there for a little bit.

But the golden haired man comes back to where I am a few minutes later, this time without the blonde. I avoid him as long as politely possible, getting drinks for other people. But after a while it would just seem extremely rude if I didn't come over to him. So I walk over and wait for him to tell me what he wants.

Instead of ordering a drink he looks me in the eyes. "Are you any good?"

"What?"

"At art. Are you any good?" I think for a moment.

"I don't know. I like to think I'm okay." The golden haired man smirks.

"If you want, you can bring in a piece of your work and let me see it. Then I can judge if you're any good." I quickly glance my my watch. It's a little after eleven. Rush hour.

I smile politely. "Thank you, but I don't think that would be necessary." For some reason the guy looks impressed. "Now if you excuse me, there's a lot of people I need to serve."

 **-Superheroes-**

For the next two hours, Maia and I own the bar. We work fast and accurately, serving as many people as we can per minute. The bar is pretty crowded. There's always something to make and something to collect.

I see the golden haired man come by two more times. I ask Maia if she can take care of him both times. She gave me a weird look, but complied.

At a little after midnight, the traffic at the bar slowly dissipates, until there's barely anyone here. To my annoyance, one of those barely anyones is the golden haired man. He sits there alone, sipping a glass of some kind of brown liquid. The lights in the background from the dance floor create shadows on his face. His golden hair looks less vibrant now; his tawny eyes darker than before. The white shirt he wears defines his arms, making them look even bigger. I look back at his face and see... is that a bruise?

I look closer and sure enough, there's an ugly purple and black bruise on the side of his temple. Now that I'm looking, I see that his knuckles are also split on his hands, more so on his left. Was there a club fight earlier that I didn't notice? Because these marks look fairly new.

"Clary!" I break my gaze away from the handsome specimen to see Maia standing a few feet away, waving a hand in front of my face.

"Yeah?" I ask, stupidly. My coworker scoffs and points behind me.

"The girl back there has been trying to get your attention for the past three minutes." I turn around, and sure enough, a gorgeous girl with long, straight black hair and chocolate brown eyes is looking at me. Her attire is usual for a club. It brings out all of the curves she has.

I quickly walk over to the girl and take the glass from her hand. "Sorry about that," I say, blushing. I expect her to roll her eyes or make some kind of rude comment, but instead she just smiles softly.

"It's okay," she says kindly. Her voice is kind of deep, what you would expect from a girl who looks really tall. "It's almost one in the morning. It's a late night." I smile back appreciatively.

"What'll you be having?"

"Cosmopolitan, please." I make her cocktail quickly. I hand her the drink and scan the bar for anyone else who might need another drink. I don't see anyone who needs a refill.

"Take a break," the girl says. "Talk with me." Not sure how to decline, I lean against the counter.

The girl sets down her drink and holds out her hand. "I'm Isabelle. Isabelle Lightwood. But you can call me Izzy." I shake her hand.

"Clary. It's nice to meet you." Isabelle, or Izzy, raises an eyebrow.

"Just Clary?"

"Morgenstern. Clarissa Morgenstern." Izzy gives me a strange look. Then her face goes back to normal and she takes a sip of her drink.

"Fancy name you have there." I give a small smile.

"Yeah. Wasn't exactly my choice."

We sit, or in my case stand, in silence for a little bit. But Izzy breaks it soon enough.

"So," she says. "How old are you?"

"I just turned eighteen." Her eyes widen in disbelief.

"Sorry if this offends you, but you really don't look eighteen." I'm about to tell her it's fine, but she just keeps talking. "I could've sworn I've seen you at this bar before. Isn't the legal age for a bartender eighteen?" Not wanting to explain the whole thing, I just shrug.

"My manager pulled a few strings. Started working here at age fifteen, started bartending when I was sixteen." Izzy nods.

"When did you turn eighteen?" she asks.

"Yesterday," I say. Her eyes brighten.

"Happy birthday!" I give a light laugh.

"Thanks."

Izzy and I talk for a little while longer. I learn that she's twenty two, she majored in fashion, she has her own boutique here in Manhattan which is right near The Plaza Hotel, she has two brothers and no sisters, and that she's lived in New York for about five years.

At a little before one, Izzy picks up her stuff, thanks me for providing drinks and talk, and exits the club. The bar is now empty. I start to wipe down the counters and clear the empty glasses. The club is still open for another hour, but the bar is now officially closed.

I finish washing all of the glasses. I pick up my bag from under the bar and I'm about to head out, when I notice the golden haired man walking up to me. I freeze not sure what to do. But instead of talking, he just lays down a twenty dollar bill and starts to walk out of the club.

"Wait!" I call at the last moment. The man turns around and looks at me. I blush, not sure what I was thinking. "Do you mind if I bring in a piece or two?" Surprisingly, the man smiles.

"Not at all."

I smile as I watch him walk out of the club.

"Who's that?" I hear Maia say from next to me. I shrug my shoulders.

"Not sure. I met him yesterday." She raises her eyebrow.

"That explains why I haven't seen him around here before." I nod. "Why did you ask for me to take him? I mean, it doesn't look like he was being a jerk to you or anything like-" I abruptly turn to Maia, cutting her off.

"I just wanted to avoid conversation," I snap. Maia looks a little taken aback. She just nods, and goes back to reorganizing the bottles and bottles on the back of the bar.

I pick up my bag and exit the bar area. I walk out of the club swiftly, pushing past people who still remain in the club. I walk down the streets of the city, making my way back to my apartment. I don't even bother to see if Simon is still in Central Park. That's how tired I am.

I open the door to the apartment as silently as I can. I enter the living space, relieved to see my brother passed out on the couch. I go to my room and start to get ready for bed.

I'm about to hit the hay, when I spot my sketchbook on my bed. As if in a trance, I'm drawn to the blank pages. Forgetting about how tired I am, I grab a pencil off of the floor and pick up my sketchbook. I open my window and step out onto the fire escape. I open the empty book and my pencil starts to move across the page.

An hour later, I look at my creation. I've drawn the man with the golden hair, sitting at the bar all alone. His bruise and cuts more noticeable in my drawing than in real life.

I shut my book and crawl back into my room. I throw my sketchbook on the floor, my pencil tucked into the spirals. Then without even pulling off the covers, I collapse onto my bed and fall into a deep sleep.

Jace

I can't sleep. No matter how hard I try, I can't sleep. All I can do is think about the red headed beauty who bartends at my new hang out spot. It's crazy to think I don't even know her name.

I flinch every time I think about what she said about her parents. How they would never let her leave Manhattan. My mind immediately assumed the worst. That she had a childhood like mine: abusive. So I watched her closely for the rest of the night. Trying to find any signs of her being abused. I didn't see anything. But she does seem to not trust people.

At the end of the night, I did see the red head talking with one of my good friends, Isabelle Lightwood.

Izzy and I met a few years ago at one of the underground fights. Her brother was there, and she was trying to talk him out of it. She went a little crazy and threatened the entire room of burly men to call the cops. That's usually how you get beat up or killed in a situation like that. So I politely escorted her out of the place. Then I told her I would try to help her brother. After that we just started hanging. Now she's like a sister to me.

The conversation Izzy had with the bartender was a pretty lengthy one. I'll have to ask her what the mysterious girl said. Maybe she knows her name.

At the end of the night, I was extremely surprised when she took me up on my offer of her art work. I hope she follows through with it. I'm interested in her talent.

I really should have guessed the red head was an artist. Her hands look like they were made to hold a pencil. And she looks like the person who has an artistic eye. Plus there's the fact that we ran into each other at an art store. At the end of the evening, I saw her looking around the club. Her hand was twitching in a way that mimicked holding a pencil.

I rub my own hands, my split knuckles coated in dried blood from my fight earlier. I had almost lost to a guy who was new in town. He was a huge dick that wouldn't keep his mouth shut. Kept talking about how he was going to "kick my ass." I was lucky to walk away with a win. I had one lucky shot at his nose which threw him off balance. He might have been new to the club, but it was apparent he was no stranger to underground fight clubs.

I put my arms behind my head and lay flat on my back. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes and trying to relax. I finally drift off, the image of red hair and green eyes dancing through my mind.

 **A/N: Sorry about the late update! My computer went completely wack and deleted the last half of the chapter. So I had to rewrite it. Damn you, computer.**

 **What do you think?**

 **Thanks for following, favoriting, and reviewing. Love you all!  
**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments**

* * *

 _This story is inspired by the song Superheroes by The Script_

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Jace

Once, twice, three times, and the guy is knocked to the floor, out for the count. I stand over my opponent. It's the same guy that almost beat me yesterday. The new guy that showed up and challenged the guy with the same name as him: me.

I quickly collect my money, not giving the girl a second glance. I grab my stuff and head out of the facility. It's already nine in the evening, and I want to get to Pandemonium as soon as possible. I want to see the small red head again.

I wash up as fast as I can at my apartment, trying to find clothes that hide my new bruises. I wash my split knuckles in the sink and wrap them in bandages, even though I'll end up taking the wrapping off later in the night.

I grab my phone, wallet, and keys and walk out of my apartment. I walk at a normal pace down the streets of the city until I reach the club. I hand the bouncer my ID, and he lets me in. I'm greeted with neon flashing lights, a dimly lit eating area, the crowded dance floor, and the bar set up on the far side of the club. I walk through the mob of dancers until I reach the bar. I spot the red head immediately. I walk over to her end of the bar.

She finishes making a drink for some brown haired man. Then she turns around and our eyes lock. I notice the slight blush that creeps onto her cheeks. I smirk, causing the light tint to her pale skin to go away. She walks over so she's standing in front of me.

"What can I get for you?" she asks. "I'm guessing some kind of whiskey drink?" she says, already reaching for a bottle behind her.

"No actually," I say. She turns back around and looks at me. "Do you have coffee?" The red head raises an eyebrow, but reaches for a pot behind her. She pours me a cup of the steaming drink. I add some milk into it and then stir. My eyes never leave hers.

"Bartender!" I hear someone call a few chairs down from me. The girl's gaze snaps away from my own and walks over to the waiting girl. I continue to take small sips of the hot drink, trying to relax my muscles.

I turn around and look around Pandemonium. It's really crowded tonight. Everywhere I look there are people dancing, drinking, or making out.

I turn back to the bar. The red head is working with a group of men a little ways away from me, so I flag down the other girl that's working at the bar. She has dark skin, lots of hair, and a curvy figure. I remember her from the night before. She's pretty, but she doesn't stand out like her coworker.

"I'll take a stinger," I say. The girl nods and starts to make me my drink. When she's done, she hands it to me. She looks at me for a few seconds, than follows my gaze to the short bartender.

"You were here yesterday," the girl says. I break my gaze and look at her. Her brown eyes are boring into mine. I nod my head.

"Yeah, I was."

"And the night before that?" I frown. I don't remember her being here two nights ago. "My friend mentioned you," she explains. Then she holds out her hand. "I'm Maia." I grasp her hand and shake it. She has a firm grip.

"Jace," I say. Maia cocks an eyebrow.

"Is that short for something?" she asks.

"Believe it or not, it's short for Jonathon." The girl smiles at me, then leans forward.

"I believe you want to ask me something." I look at her. Do I want to ask her something? I'm not interested in getting her number. She's not my type. But there is one thing...

"What's the red head's name?" I ask her. Maia grins.

"I'll tell you what. I'll take to my manager and see if she can have a fifteen minute break. Then you can ask her yourself." I narrow my eyes.

"Are you trying to set me up with a teenager? You know I'm 21, right?" Maia looks at me, her grin fading. But now she has a stern look on her face.

"I'm not trying to set you up. Both of you seem to get along. I'm trying to give the poor girl a friend. She doesn't have any, you know?" I look at her in shock.

"What about you?" Maia shakes her head sadly.

"She pushes everyone around her away. You're the first person I've ever seen to successfully make small talk with her."

I look back at the girl. She's making some fancy drink for a brunette chick, who seems to be trying to talk with her. Sure enough, the red head looks uncomfortable and doesn't say a word. I saw her talking with Izzy, but that was after she talked with me.

I look back at the bartender in front of me. Then I slowly nod my head. "If you could work that out with your manager, that would be fantastic." The girl grins.

I hand her a tip before taking a large sip of my drink, welcoming the burning taste of the brandy.

It's time to learn more about this mysterious red head.

 **-Superheroes-**

I sit in a booth waiting for the red headed bartender. Maia informed me that her manager, Magnus Bane, had agreed to let her take a short break. I have less than twenty minutes with this girl, and I'm going to make every second count.

"You wanted to see me?" I look up and see the girl standing there. Without a bar in between us, I can see her entire figure for the first time. She's smaller than I first thought. Maybe the floor is elevated behind the bar. She's skinny, having slight curves. Even though she's skinny, she looks plenty fit. Her arms are toned, probably from working the bar seven days a week. Her hair is in a ponytail now, but I can tell that it's pretty long. It's frizzy and wild and red. Her green eyes look even more vibrant in the club's lighting. The uniform she's wearing isn't the most appropriate in the world, but she somehow still pulls off innocence.

"If you don't mind," I say finally. She nods and slides into the booth across from me.

"Let's start simple," I say to her. "We don't even know each other's names." The girl looks surprised.

"I never thought of that," she says. Then she smiles. "I'm Clary."

 _Clary._

It's a beautiful name. And it fits her well.

"I'm Jace," I say. Clary nods.

"Suits you," she says. I smirk at her comment.

I lean my elbows on the table. "I believe you agreed to show me something," I say. Clary looks confused for a second before her eyes lighting up.

"Oh! Right. My sketchbooks in my bag," she says. I look at her expectantly.

"And where's your bag?" I ask her. She still doesn't move, just keeps looking at me.

"Behind the bar," Clary replies. I raise an eyebrow and wait for her to make the connection. I know she does because suddenly her cheeks turn bright red. "I'll go get it," she mumbles. She stands up and moves across the club back to the bar. I chuckle to myself. This girl didn't seem dumb, just distracted.

As I wait for her to return, I can't help but wonder why this girl has no friends. She seems nice and friendly, not too over the top but not too shy. She seems like a person many would want as a friend.

Clary returns a few minutes later holding a black pad of paper. She hands it to me and gives me a tight smile. "You wanted to see these. So don't judge me too harshly." I smirk at her, keeping my eyes on her as I flip open the sketchbook.

"Don't worry, Red. I bet they're not-" My eyes flicker down and my breath hitches. I'm staring at a sketch of part of Central Park and it's surroundings from above. The people down below, the details in the cars, the cracks in the sidewalk, and the reflection off of the buildings. It's absolutely amazing.

I turn to the next page, eager to see what else lies in the pages. The next drawing is of the outside of Pandemonium. The people in line, the bouncer out front, the light from the signs, and the eerie atmosphere are all captured perfectly on the piece of paper.

I keep flipping through the pages, not saying a word. Some are drawings of the city. The buildings, the people, the buskers in the park. All are drawn with such detail, they looks like photographs. Others are drawing of the club. The people on the dance floor, the bar, the DJ, and many other scenes from many different nights.

When I get to the last filled page, I freeze. It's me sitting alone at the bar. And I don't know how this girl did it, but she captured what I really feel. I look pained and sad. Alone and weary. And each of my injuries from the fight before are highlighted and brought out. I look regretful as I hold my drink in my hand.

"I knew it," Clary moans. "I'm no good. I'm sorry, you didn't have to-"

"What are you talking about?" I ask loudly, closing the book. Clary jumps at the tone of my voice.

"Wh-What?" she stutters.

"These drawings are fucking amazing," I say. The red head blushes. "You should easily get into the Brooklyn Academy of Art with these." For some reason she tenses. "What's wrong?"

Clary sighs. "I'm glad you think I could, but there's also the problem with money." Oh. "I was able to get this job at age fifteen because I was so desperate. Magnus gave it to me out of pity. I've been trying to save up for art school, but occasionally I have to use the money for other things." I frown at her.

"What about your parents?" Clary scowls.

"My parents don't give a damn about what happens to me," she says. "They gave all the money they were saving up for our college to my older brother."

I instantly feel bad for her. Having to work seven days a week at a job so you could pay for your own college before you're even an adult? That must suck. But of course I can't say that my current situation is any better.

"Enough with the Clary pity party." I smirk. "What about you?" she asks. I hesitate before answering as carefully as possible.

"I had daddy issues growing up. I dropped out of college so I could pursue my passion." Kind of. "So that's what I do now."

"What's your passion?" she asks. I put my walls up, not wanting her to think less of me because of how I make all my money.

"Haven't you ever heard of asking too many questions?" The small girl's look turns annoyed.

"I told you, a guy I barely even know, about my parent problems!"

"That's your fault, isn't it then?" She glares at me.

"You can't tell me anything?"

"Nope." Clary keeps her glare pointed at me. Then she stands up and walks out of the booth, turning around before walking back to the bar.

"Thank you for pissing me off in the middle of my work shift," she says sarcastically. "I'm not going to be the one to give you your drinks tonight." And with that, Clary turns around and storms back to the bar.

I sigh, cursing myself for ruining a possible friendship. I look down and see that Clary left her sketchbook on the table.

Without thinking twice, I pick up the book and walk out of the club.

 **A/N:** **I went back and read the previous chapters and noticed a few inconsistencies. So I'm clearing them up right now.**

 **1\. Clary lives in Manhattan. But she wants to go to school in Brooklyn.**

 **2\. Clary's bartending uniform required her to wear black boots. (I had her wearing sneakers in the second chapter.)**

 **3\. Clary's shift goes from 8:00 to 11:45. Except that one time when she had the extended hours.**

 **4\. Clary and Maia will always work the bar together. (I wrote there was another guy in the second chapter.)**

 **Anyway, I wanted to do something different with this story. I wrote a couple of the first chapters out, but then decided I kind of like writing as I go with a basic idea. So I have a few things in the story I want to leave up to the readers:**

 **Should Sebastian make an appearance?** **What about Aline, Helen, and Kaelie? Raphael? Alec? What characters do you want to be a part of this?**

 **Should I write some Sizzy? And what are your thoughts on Jonathan VS Jace in a fight?**

 **If you guys have any other ideas for this story, please tell me. I'll happily try to include them in the story just for you! Because you guys are awesome and I love you all!**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

 _This story is inspired my the song Superheroes by The Script._

* * *

 **WARNING: THIS AND OTHER CHAPTERS HAVE MENTIONS AND SCENES OF ABUSE**

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Clary

I feel terrible for the way I snapped at Jace. I was being selfish. I wanted to get to know this 21 year old hot shot. I should know of all people how hard it is to let your walls down. I'm not sure again why I did it tonight. But I'm glad I did. It felt nice to tell someone other than Simon.

Simon...

Oh shit. Simon is going to kill me. It's been a few days since I've seen him last. I haven't left a note at our spot in a while, too. I better drop by Central Park on my way back to my apartment and see him.

The rest of the night goes pretty quickly. I don't see Jace at all, so I assume he's gone home. At 11:45 exactly, I finish the counter top I'm cleaning and grab my bag from under the bar. I look through it and make sure I have my keys, my wallet, my phone... damn it. I'm missing my sketchbook!

I exit from behind the bar and walk over to the booth I was sitting at earlier. I look under the table, on the seats, and all around the vicinity of the booth. It's not there. I try not to freak out, and I move one table over. Maybe that was the wrong booth? But no. I seriously can't find the sketchbook anywhere.

I feel myself starting to tear up. That book is like my diary. If I don't have it, I can't feel safe. At least it was my older one, and not the new one that Simon gave me. But the older one had many cherished drawings I was hoping to use for my art portfolio. And now it's gone.

I grab my bag from the place I left it on the floor. I give Maia a quick "goodbye and thank you", then I walk out of the club.

The air tonight is chilly. I wish I had brought some sort of jacket with me.

I make my way to Central Park. I'm surprised to see Simon still playing his violin softly for a small crowd of people. I scan the dozen or so men and women watching him play, and I stop when I notice a tall man with golden hair. I take a few tentative steps backward, then break into a full on sprint until I'm in front of my apartment building.

Must I run into him everywhere?

I walk up to few flights of stairs until I'm at my apartment. I unlock the door and silently step inside. I put my bag down on the floor and take my hair out of my ponytail. I silently walk to the kitchen. Most nights I skip dinner, but the stress and guilt of how I acted towards Jace has made me kind of hungry. I grab an apple from the fruit basket and start to eat it.

I jump when the apartment door slams open. I freeze when I see the gigantic figure of my brother walking towards me. His eyes are bloodshot and he smells like alcohol. He has a bruise on his face and knuckles are split. He got into a fight.

"You," he spits. He's obviously drunk, but he only slurs his words slightly. "I lost three hundred dollars tonight because of you!" He advances towards me. I drop the apple on the floor and back up. Now I'm in the living room.

"And you lied!" he bellows. "You lied about where you fucking work, you bitch!" I try to back up some more, but I'm now helplessly against the wall, with my brother who is twice my size and in a drunk rage coming after me.

"Jon, I don't know what you're-" I start to say, but I'm cut off by a hard slap against to my face. I gasp and hold my cheek, fear swelling up inside of me.

"Don't call me Jon, you slut!" he yells. I try to run around him. I need to get out of the apartment. But my brother grabs my arm extremely harshly, his grip leaving bruises against my pale skin. Then he lets go for a second, only to bring his hand up and slap me across the face again. Then he roughly grabs both of my shoulders. I wince at my brother's strength. Then he turns me around and pushes me into a cabinet.

I cry out as my back comes in contact with the wood of the cabinet. A jar from a shelf falls on impact and shatters on top of my head.

I wait until Jonathon leaves the room before I try to stand up. My back is bleeding, and I can feel bruises forming on my arm and shoulders. I have a few cuts on my forehead and shoulders from the jar that fell on my head. I get up and limp towards my room. I close the door silently, tears running down my cheeks.

Unfortunately, this abuse from my brother is nothing new. When he gets angry, he takes it out on other people. He used to do it mostly in street fights with other men his size. But when he didn't have other men to punch and throw around, he would use me: his small and fragile little sister who he couldn't care less about.

I take off my uniform. I don't even bother putting new clothes on. I open my drawer and walk to my mirror and start cleaning the cuts I have. Then I examine the bruises in the shape of fingers and hands on me, and decide that these are going to be bad ones. Since I can't get my entire back, I clean what I can reach. Then I fall onto my bed naked, and try to sleep.

Unfortunately, the nightmares keep me awake.

 **A/N: Sorry that this chapter is so short. Maybe a few reviews will make the next one longer. ;)**

 **Thank you all for your suggestions of what you want to happen in this story. They were all actually really helpful, and I have a few ideas cooking for later. If you want to suggest anything, feel free to tell me. I'm open to any suggestions, no matter how absurd!  
**

 **Like Jace killing Sebastian.**

 **Anyway, thank you all so much for the support on this story. Next chapter will hopefully come soon!**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

* * *

 _This story is inspired by the song Superheroes by The Script_

* * *

Clary

I didn't sleep at all. So at six o'clock in the morning, I decided enough was enough and I would just have to pull through with the day. I groan as I sit up, my back and shoulders aching. The bruises I have are sore, and the cuts I have sting.

I shower and change into a grey t-shirt and black sport leggings. Deciding to keep my hair down, I brush it out as best as I can. Then I apply make up, covering up the nasty bruise that adorns my left cheek. I can't do anything about the bruises on my wrist, so I just throw on a couple of bracelets and hope no one pays attention to it.

I open my window and silently climb down the fire escape. I land on my feet with a soft thump in the back of my apartment building. Then I start the short walk to Central Park.

It's still before seven in the morning, so I walk to Simon's area and sit down on a nearby bench. I start to think about how I saw Jace here the other night.

Who was this guy? I honestly knew nothing about him. Just what types of drinks he likes, and he seems to be easy to talk to. But he never told me anything about himself. Hopefully he isn't some criminal or sexual predator trying to kidnap me. Maybe I should keep my distance until he starts to talk about himself. I mean, I don't even know his last name, and I'm already telling him about my family issues?

"What's up, Clare-Bear?" I jump at the sound of a man's voice in front of me. I look up and see Simon standing there, violin in hand, looking down at me amused. I give him a weary smile. The look on his face instantly turns to one of worry. "What's wrong?"

"My brother's back in town." Simon looks angry. He's the only person besides me and Jonathon who know about the abuse. He takes a seat next to me, and puts an arm around my shoulder. I lean into him and let the tears I've been holding flow. I cry silently and my best friend holds me. The gesture is one I'm so unused to. It's nice to know that someone cares.

Simon stands up abruptly and looks at me. "I know a place where we can go," he says. I open my mouth in shock.

"What about busking?" He shakes his head.

"You're more important." I smile as he holds out a hand. I grab it and Simon pulls me up from the bench. We start to walk in the opposite direction of my apartment building. Into the more wealthy part of Manhattan.

"Um, where exactly are we going?" I ask, looking around at all of the expensive real estate that surrounds me. Simon smirks.

"My girlfriend's apartment," he responds. My mouth opens in shock. Who knew Simon was dating some rich chick?

We stop in front of a tall black building. I feel extremely out of place as we walk into the lobby. Simon leads me to a desk in the middle of the white and gold room. The receptionist smiles warmly when she sees Simon.

"Welcome to The Institute! Luxury living spaces in the heart of New York City. How can I help you today, Simon?" The look on my face must have been priceless, because both the receptionist and Simon laugh. "It's okay, dear," the woman says. "Your friend has been here quite a few times to see Miss Lightwood."

Before I can stop myself, I say, "Izzy?" Now it's Simon's turn to look surprised.

"You know her?" I feel my cheeks redden.

"Yeah, I met her at Pandemonium a few nights ago." The receptionist furrows her eyebrows.

"Pandemonium?" she asks, sounding confused. I turn to the woman.

"The club I work at." She nods, and then looks at Simon.

"I'll buzz Miss Lightwood and warn her of your arrival. In the meantime," She hands Simon a card, "you can make yourselves at home."

I look around the room. There's a giant chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Gold couches and chairs are scattered through the lobby. The walls look like they're made of marble, and the floor is some sort of dark wood. There're staircases on either side of the room leading up to the apartments. And there's a huge stained glass window on the wall with the entrance. On the back wall, in giant gold lettering, there's a sign that reads, "The Institute."

"Simon! How are you?" I turn to see Isabelle Lightwood embracing my best friend and giving him a quick kiss on the lips. Her long black hair is flowing down her back. She's wearing a short and strapless grey dress with silver stilettos and many rings adorning her fingers. Her makeup is done and she looks absolutely stunning. I'm a bit jealous of the woman's beauty.

Izzy looks behind Simon and sees me. Her smile grows wider. "Clary! It's fabulous to see you again!" She walks up to me and gives me a hug. I'm a bit shocked. We only met once, after all. But I return the hug. It must look ridiculous. I'm so much shorter that the woman in front of me.

Izzy clasps her hands together. "I just ordered breakfast for all of us. I hope that's okay." I nod my head and Simon smiles. Izzy grins even wider, if that's even possible at the moment.

She takes Simon's hand in her own, and they both lead the way to the elevator. I awkwardly walk behind them. It's weird, because Simon is twenty one, and if I recall correctly, Izzy is twenty two. I never knew that Simon would want to date a woman older than him. Or the same height as him.

We walk into the elevator. The short ride up is filled with Izzy talking about her morning. How she had to call in for her own boutique and ask for a sick day, and how her friendncalled and made her have to cut her morning routine in half.

"I was going to curl my hair," she says, pouting. "I really try to look my best whenever I have guests."

Even though Izzy seems like kind of a diva, she really is sweet. I'm glad that Simon found a girl he likes. They seem completely different, but at the same time made for each other.

When the elevator dings and we step into Izzy's penthouse, I gasp. I feel so under dressed in just a t-shirt and leggings. My best friends walks in like this gigantic living space is no big deal. He takes off his shoes by the door and walks to the kitchen, opening up one of many cabinets and filling a glass with water.

Izzy gently grabs my arm, and in my shocked state I jump. She laughs lightly. "I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable," she says in a motherly tone. I smile and shake my head.

"It's not that. I just feel so under dressed." I hear Simon groan loudly from the kitchen.

"Clary, you have no idea how much trouble you've gotten yourself into." Izzy squeals and starts to pull me through the penthouse and up the stairs.

"I'm been _dying_ to give someone a makeover!" she exclaims. I'm lead into a huge room. It's really messy, with clothes and makeup all over the place. But the floor space is so big that the mess really isn't that bad.

Izzy pulls out a chair in front of a vanity and points to it. "Sit," she demands. Afraid to disobey, I scramble and sit down on the seat.

The woman examines me from all sides. She pokes at my face and gently pulls on my hair. Then she grabs a bottle of some kind of spray and sets to work.

"You and Simon seems close," she says as she puts the product in my hair. "How did you meet?" I smile at her question.

"Well, we met when I was fourteen. He was sixteen at the time." I hesitate, not wanting to give the full details of the story. "Something... happened, and left my apartment and ran into Central Park. It was the middle of the night." The something that happened was my brother hitting me for the first time. "I saw him playing his violin, so I stopped and watched. When he was done, I gave him the money I had in my pocket. He stopped me and asked what I was doing alone at night. He thought I was a lot younger than I actually was." I laugh, remembering when he asked what a ten year old was doing out and about on the streets of New York City. "We talked for a little, and we kind of just clicked. Now we've been best friends for four years."

"So that was before you started working at Pandemonium?" I nod.

"Simon actually gave me the idea of where to get a job. Both of us had the same problem: we needed money for college. He was also an assistant at some software company at the time, and busking was extra money on the side. Me, on the other hand... bartending was the only way I got any money."

"Do you have parents?" I can't bring myself to be annoyed with her personnel question.

"They gave all the money for college to my older brother." Izzy stops brushing my hair.

"What? That's terrible! Why?" I sigh, not really wanting to get into it. But Isabelle Lightwood doesn't seem to be the person who takes no for an answer.

"He got into a lot of fights, and he's dumb as an ox. So my mom and dad gave all the money to him so he could learn and board and NYU."

Izzy snorts. "Gets into a lot of fights? Sounds like my friend."

We continue to talk as she does my hair and makeup. I tell her about bartending, and she tells me what's it's like to own her own business. I tell her about how hard it is to memorize every alcoholic beverage on the menu, and she tells me about all the famous people she's met.

Izzy has covered the mirror, so I have no idea what I look like. All I know is that my hair feels tame for once.

She takes a makeup remover wipe and starts to take off the existing makeup from my face. I think nothing of it, until she gasps. "Oh my God! Who did _that?_ " And that's when I remember the bruise my brother gave me. I cover my cheek with my hand and whirl around to look at Izzy. She looks horrified, still staring at the covered bruise on my face. "Clary, who did that?" she asks, again, louder this time.

Simon comes through the bedroom door, looking around wildly. When he sees me, he approaches me slowly. He bends down and looks up at me from my spot on the chair.

"Clary," my friend says softly. I look into Simon's brown eyes. "We're going to tell Isabelle." My eyes widen and I start to shake my head. But Simon takes my other hand and moves closer. "She can help you, Clare-Bear." I look at Simon, and slowly start to nod my head. He smiles softly, then stands up and leads Izzy out of the room.

A couple minutes later, Izzy and Simon return. Izzy has tears rolling down her face.

"Honey..." she starts to say, but instead she runs up to me and embraces me. I hug her back.

Izzy leans back and smiles at me. "We're going to make you the most beautiful girl in the club tonight." I give a nervous laugh. "You're already beautiful, Clary. You just need to see it for yourself. Then that will make you even more radiant."

Without waiting for a response, Izzy starts again on my makeup. She lightly covers my face with foundation, being extra careful around my bruise. Then she starts on eye shadow and mascara.

In the middle of my makeover, Simon comes up to Izzy's room with plates of food. I grab a plate of waffles and bacon, and devour my breakfast. We then turn on the TV in the room and watch a program for a little bit. Before we know it, it's already noon. Simon goes downstairs to order Chinese take out, and Izzy returns to my makeover.

We're interrupted one more time by lunch. I eat my mu shu pork while Izzy finished my hair. Then she puts the finishing touches on my face and starts on my nails.

The makeover took almost the entire day. When Izzy is done, it's five o'clock in the afternoon. I think if we were more focused, it could have only taken two hours, but we took many breaks to do other things in between.

"You ready to see my master piece?" Izzy exclaims dramatically. I'm standing in front of a full length mirror, waiting to be spun around. "One, two, three!" I turn around and gasp. I don't recognize the person I'm looking at. My makeup is done in a way that looks natural and cute. Natural browns and light cream colors blend on my eye lids. A light pink makes my lips look bigger. My face is contoured slightly, and my freckles actually look good against my pale skin. My hair has been curled and put up into a bun on the top of my head. A couple strands of hair fall out from the top, framing my face.

I'm still wearing what I was wearing before. Simon went back to my apartment to sneak through my window and get my uniform for me.

"Izzy... you're amazing," I manage to whisper. Izzy squeals.

"I know!"

Izzy and I go back down stairs and turn on the television. Then we watch reruns of Friends until Simon comes back. By this time it's already seven. Pandemonium is a lot farther from here then from my apartment.

I change carefully, making sure I don't mess anything up. Then I exit the bathroom and walk into the living room. The sight I see is not exactly welcoming. In the short three minutes it took for me to change is all it took for Simon and Izzy to start an intense make out session. One where Simon's shirt is off, and Izzy's bra has mysteriously disappeared.

I squeak and cover my eyes. Then I blindly make my way to the door. I grab my sneakers that are on the floor and search for the door knob. And at that exact moment, there's a loud pounding on the door. I freeze, not knowing what I should do.

I decide I shouldn't answer Izzy's door. I wait a second, still frozen in place. The person knocks again, louder this time. I hear Izzy yell, "Coming, coming!" from the living room. I keep my back turned, not wanting to see her put her bra back on.

Izzy walks to the door and opens it, not even trying to fix her appearance.

"Geez, Iz. What's going on in there?" I hear a masculine and very familiar voice say. I freeze, glad I'm in a blind spot. What the hell is Jace doing here? I scramble away from the door and position my self by the bathroom, praying she doesn't invite him in.

"I have friends over," she says bluntly. Jace laughs.

"Let me guess. Your new boyfriend, and some other guy that you've been going at, too." That's when Simon walks to the door.

"What's going on-" He stops when he peers through the door. "Hey, I know you," he says.

"Yeah, and I know you," Jace says, sounding amused. "You're that busker in the park."

"Yeah, and you're the guy my friend-"

Thankfully, I'm fast. And without even thinking, I run from my spot and launch myself onto Simon, knocking him out of the doorway and onto the nearby couch. Then I roll off of him and land behind the couch, praying that Jace didn't see me.

"What the hell?" Jace asks. I see him try to step through the doorway, but thankfully Izzy closes the door slightly and steps in front of him.

"Jace, we're kind of in the middle of something," she says casually. "Tell me what you wanted to tell me. Now." I hear Jace sigh.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go clubbing with me tonight." I hear Izzy start to respond, but Jace cuts her off. "You can bring your boyfriend and... whoever that was who side tackled him." He lowers his voice. "I'm in deep shit, Izzy. With a girl that I've been talking to. I need you to help me." For some reason I feel a pang of jealousy at his words.

Izzy pauses before answering. "Sure, I'll go with you. Where to?"

"Pandemonium," he says. I feel my stomach do a flip. "I'll meet you there at 8:30."

"Okay. Bye Jace." Izzy closes the door slowly and waits a few seconds before turning to Simon and I. Simon is still sprawled out on the couch, and my head is peeking up from behind it. Izzy looks furious.

"Why did you do that?" she yells. I'm about to responds when she says, "You messed up your hair!"

That's true. My hair came out of the bun on the impact against Simon.

Izzy marches over and grabs me, leading me back upstairs. "We have to do this quick," she growls as I sit down on the chair. Izzy starts re-pinning my hair.

"Why did you do that?" she asks, breaking the silence. I sigh.

"I know Jace." Izzy stops. I see an expression of shock appear on her face through the mirror.

"Really? How? Did you hook up with him in the past?" I crinkle my nose.

"What? No!" An expression of relief crosses Izzy's face. "He's been coming to Pandemonium for the last few nights. I've talked with him before. But last night we kind of got into an argument."

"What about?"

"He asked questions about my life, so I told him. But when I asked him questions about his, he refused to talk." Now that I say it, it sounds really stupid. Why did I get so mad at him?

Izzy sighs. "Clary, dear, Jace's past isn't something you want to get into. It's rough." I nod my head.

Izzy finishes the bun in silence. "There," she says. "If you want, I can drive you to the club." I shake my head.

"No it's fine. I'd rather walk." I hesitate. "But if you had a light coat I could borrow-" Izzy is at her closet in a flash. She throws me a light black wind breaker.

I stand up and give her a lingering hug. "Thank you," I say. She smiles.

"No biggie. Stop by any time you want!" Then her expression turns serious.

"If you need help with that brother, I know a guy who can take care of that." I laugh lightly and shake my head.

"I can fight my own battles."

I start to walk out of the room. But when I reach the door, I turn around and look at Isabelle one more time. "By the way, thank you for the sketchbook."

 **A/N: Did you like it? Enough Sizzy? Don't worry, I'll write more. Sorry about the lack of Clace. That's coming next chapter.**

 **Thank you all for the ideas! They really are helpful!**

 **I love you all! Thank you for favoriting, following, and reviewing!**

 **BTW, I decided to write an epilogue for my other story, Abilities. So if you're interested, you can check that out!**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

 _This story is inspired by the song Superheroes by The Script_

* * *

Jace

I walk away from The Institute, still puzzled about Izzy's behavior. Usually she lets me in with open arms. Maybe it's because her boyfriend was there.

I can't believe that Isabelle Lightwood is dating that busker. Usually she goes for the rich male model guys. She's totally out of this guy's league. But I'm also kind of glad that I now have a connection with the guy. I've been trying to write down the chords from his song for a couple days. Now I can actually ask him about his song.

I've been trying to figure out what lyrics I'll write. I need some sort of inspiration. So far I have none.

I never got to really talk to the guy. I didn't even catch his name. We barely spoke more than a sentence to each other before that other person knocked him over from the side. Which was pretty funny to watch, by the way.

I have no idea who that second figure was. All I could tell was that they were dressed in black, they weren't very tall, and I thought I saw a flash of red too.

When I reach my apartment, I see that the girl I hooked up with after lunch left her number on a piece of paper. I chuckle to myself, ball up the paper, and throw it away. I won't be calling her anytime soon.

As I think of the sex I had earlier, I can't help feeling guilty. I don't know why, but it didn't feel right.

I sigh, picking up her sketchbook from the table in front of me. I open it and flip through the drawings for the tenth or so time. This time, I go through the blank pages, looking for any hidden drawings. When I come across one, I freeze.

It's a full grown man. He has light hair and dark eyes. His expression is stony, firm, and emotionless. You can tell from the drawing how intimidating he is. At least he is for Clary.

Because I know this guy.

It's Jonathon, the guy who keeps fighting me at the underground club.

Confusion engulfs me. How does she know him? Maybe she's his girlfriend.

I immediately dismiss the thought. For the short time that I've known this mysterious red head, I know that she would never date a guy like him.

I stand up and walk to my room, changing into a black button down shirt and jeans. Then I pull shoes and run my hands through my hair a couple of times. Then I grab Clary's sketchbook and walk out of my apartment.

When I exit my building, I hear my phone ring. I reach into my back pocket and see that Izzy's calling me. I smirk then accept the call.

"Jace Wayland speaking," I say into the phone.

"Shut up, you dick," Izzy says, sounding extremely exasperated. "I was told about a problem today and I'm not sure how to fix it." I frown.

"You seemed fine when I saw you earlier-"

"Just listen, okay?" she says. Izzy sounds like she's about to cry. "It's my friend. I don't want to tell you who they are, but they're having a problem." I hear a sob from the other end of the line. "Jace, it's abuse!"

My blood runs cold. My fists clench and I stop on the street. _Abuse_. What I experienced for the first sixteen years of my life. The topic I never bring up in fear of having breakdowns. And if someone is having the same problems as I did, I want to help them in every way I can.

Izzy continues to talk. "What do I do Jace? How can I help?" I think for a moment before answering.

"First of all, try not to bring up the topic. Only when you have to. Because if you talk about it, the person could have panic attacks or nervous breakdowns. Make sure that your friend is eating and that they're staying mentally stable. And try to keep them out of the house as much as possible, as long as it isn't making the abuse worse. And if things are really bad, call the police." I pause for a second. "Do you know how serious it is?"

I hear Izzy sigh. "According to my sources, it's not annual." I cross a cross walk, trying not to run into people.

"Is it the person's parents?" Izzy hesitates.

"No," she says. "It's a brother who's in college. He's visiting right now and-" she stops short. "I think I've said too much."

"Izzy-"

"Please don't bring up the topic again tonight."

"Izzy-"

"See you soon!"

I hear the ringing that means that she hung up on me. I put my phone back into my pocket. My hand is clenched around Clary's sketchbook, anger still coursing through my body.

When I reach Pandemonium, it's getting dark out. I can make out Izzy's tall and curvy figure standing outside, flirting with the bouncer. While her boyfriend is standing right there. I can tell he's extremely uncomfortable. I smirk as I watch him squirm.

I walk up to Izzy and her boyfriend. "Hey, Iz. What's up?" She smiles and pulls me in for a quick hug. She seems fine now. I turn her her rat-faced boyfriend. "So we meet again." The guy narrows his eyes, but holds out a hand.

"Simon Lewis," he says. I take his hand and firmly shake it.

"Jace Wayland," I say. Then I grip his hand tighter and pull him towards me. "Alec isn't here right now, so I will do the honors of the big brother talk. Izzy is the best thing that's going happen to you. So treat her with respect and I won't treat you with a beating." When I'm done with my small speech, Simon is wide eyed. Then I remember that I want to get on this busker's good side. So I let go of his hand and clap him on his back. Then I force a smile and say, "Welcome to the family!"

Izzy snorts.

All three of us get into the club, and we immediately make our way to the bar. I'm looking around the club while we walk, trying to find any hot girls. Then I look up, and my eyes are met with green ones.

"Found one," I mutter under my breath. She furrows her cute little eyebrows and looks at me, confused.

"Excuse me?" she says.

I can't pull my gaze away from her. Instead of the light almost nonexistent makeup she usually wears, she has much more on. But it's not too much. Not at all. It looks really natural, actually. In replace of the high and messy ponytail I'm used to, she has her fiery red hair piled up into a bun on the top of her head. A few pieces hang down, framing her face. She looks absolutely breath taking.

I snap out of my thoughts. What the hell was I thinking? This girl is three years younger than me and I barely know her. And she can't know me.

I see that Clary still looks extremely confused, and now an expression of worry crosses her face. "Jace? Are you okay?" I sit up a little too straight and look her in the eyes. Her emerald eyes that seem to glow against her pale skin...

"Yeah. I'm fine." I say. Then I clear my throat and return to my normal posture. "I had a couple before I came here so-"

"Liar," I hear Izzy say, disguising it with a cough. I see Clary's eyes light up as she glances behind me.

"Hey, Izzy," she says. "Long time no see." I see my friend give a wary smile towards the red head.

"Yeah. Long time..." Clary then turns to Simon.

"Hey, Si." Simon smiles at Clary. I look back and forth between the two.

"You guys know each other?" Clary nods.

"Best friends since I was fourteen." A surge of jealousy passes through my body. How does Simon know all of the ladies?

"If you guys don't mind, Simon and I are going to the dance floor," Izzy says. Then she takes a hold of Simon's collar and drags him away with her. I hear a tinkling laugh from the other side of the bar.

"They're so cute together," Clary says. Then she turns back to me.

"Look, about yesterday, I'm really sorry about how I reacted. I was being over dramatic and unreasonable." She laughs. "In other words, I was being a bitch." I smirk at her comment.

"You're not a bitch," I assure her. Clary raises an eyebrow.

"Really?" I pretend to think it over, using my facial expressions to mimic me agreeing with her. She laughs again.

"So, what do you want?" What do I want? _I want you._ I shake the thought from my head and instead order a whiskey on the rocks. Clary makes the drink quickly, then slides it across the bar. I take it from her, our hands touching and lingering on each other a few seconds too long. I see Clary blush and I take the drink from her.

I take a small sip of the whiskey. Clary goes off to tend a few more people but comes back after a few minutes.

"So," I say, gesturing to her face. "What's up with this." Clary gives a small smile.

"Izzy did it. I was at her apartment earlier today." I lift my eyes up in surprise. She was there? When?

Then I remember the tiny person who knocked Simon down sideways. I knew I saw a flash of red in there!

"You're the one who side tackled Izzy's boyfriend." Clary smiles nervously.

"Yeah. We were doing some sort of, um, game. And I saw the opportunity to get him, so I did." I study her facial features. She's biting the inside of her cheek, she's fiddling with her hands, and she's avoiding my gaze. She's lying. But why?

Just then a girl flags Clary down. She looks relieved.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," she says, walking away. I see her trip over her own feet as she tries to move quickly behind the bar. I chuckle to myself and smile and I take a long sip of the strong whiskey.

I finish the drink in no time, slamming the empty glass down on the bar in front of me. The other bartender, Maia, comes over and takes my glass.

"Woah, that was quick," she says. Then she gives me a pointed look. "You better not get drunk. Because you're going to need to be almost completely sober to make up an excuse for that." The girl points to the sketchbook I have in my hand under the bar.

"I guess you're right," I sigh. Maia smiles and hands me a glass of water.

A few more minutes have gone by, and Clary still isn't back to me yet. I look around the dimly lit bar, trying to find that distinguishable red hair. And I do find it.

Clary is talking to some guy with tan skin and short brown hair. He's pretty tall and pretty buff, but nothing compared to me. He's looking at the small girl with some kind of lust in his eyes. Clary seems oblivious to the way he keeps checking her out in her revealing uniform. He says something, and she laughs. Then he places a hand on her wrist.

Instead of blushing or swooning from the flirtatious behavior, Clary snaps her wrist back. I can tell her eyes are wide and her hand is shaking slightly. Then she relaxes, seems to apologize to the guy, and then keeps talking.

I try to tell myself I don't care. I mean, this girl and I only met a few days ago. And I really have no concrete feelings towards her. Sure, Izzy did her makeup and made her look more beautiful than usual. _Than usual._ Damn, what's wrong with me?

I finally can't stand it anymore. So I whistle, and Clary looks away from the guy. She sees me, says something to the guy, and walks to me. I ask for another whiskey, forgetting about what Maia had said earlier.

"Who were you talking to?" I ask casually. Clary hands me my drink. I can tell she's trying to avoid my touch this time.

"Oh, him? He's one of my regulars. His name's Jordan Kyle. He's Maia's boyfriend." I feel a gigantic weight come off of my chest.

"It looks like he was doing an awful lot of flirting over there." Clary rolls her eyes and smiles.

"Flirting? No way. He was making fun of me."

Before I can stop myself, I reach out and quickly grab Clary's wrist. She gasps in surprise. I inspect the skin on her arm. I don't see anything.

"What are you doing?" she asks, her voice slightly shaking. I look up at her and frown. Something's going on, but I don't know what.

I decide to leave it alone for now. I drop her arm which she tugs back towards her quickly. Then I reach under the bar and bring out her sketchbook.

Clary's face lights up. "You found it! Thank you!" she squeals. Then she takes it from my hands, _hugs it_ , then leans over and plants a kiss on my cheek. I smirk as I watch her blush. "Sorry," she mutters. Then she puts the sketchbook in her bag. "Where'd you find it?"

I swallow, trying to figure out if I should lie or not. Deciding that it's not worth the trouble, I fess up. "I found it yesterday. Before I left. And I took it home with me."

I expect her to be angry. Instead, Clary just looks confused. "Why?" she asks. I sigh, running my hand through my hair.

"I guess... I wanted to look at your drawings again." A soft smile appears on her lips. Then she laughs quietly.

"Maybe I should be mad at you, but I'm just so glad to have it back, I couldn't care less." I look at her, thoughtfully.

"What?" she asks. I smirk.

"You really are a true artist, aren't you?" She sighs.

"Yeah. It's always been my passion. The way to express myself. It's my-"

"Escape?" I finish for her. She looks at me in surprise. "I have one too," I explain.

"If you don't mind me asking, what is it?"

I look into her green eyes. I could say that my escape is fighting. That beating another guy senseless is the way I cope with my feelings. But that's not entirely true. It may be the way to get my anger out, but it's not my escape.

"Music," I answer. "I play the piano."

She's about to say something, when Izzy appears next to me.

"Clary!" she yells over the loud music. "If you don't mind, I have to steal Jace for a couple of minutes. And you have a bunch of people waiting on you." Without letting me say goodbye to the red head, Izzy has pulled me across the dance floor and to a booth to sit. I slide into the seat and my friend looks at me expectantly. "So?"

"So what?"

"What about the girl troubles you've been having?" she says, lightly punching my arm. "Who's the next girl who'll be hung high and dry by Jace Wayland?" I glare at her.

"I'm not looking for a casual hook up," I say. Izzy looks surprised.

"Really? Who's got you chasing them?" I take a deep breath and look into her eyes.

"It's Clary."

 **A/N: I feel bad about the lack of Clary POV in this chapter. So I had to stop myself now before I finished the entire story in Jace's POV. Sorry.**

 **Let me know what you think! I'm 100% serious when I say your guys' requests are helping me with this story. Got any ideas? I'll try my best to include them!**

 **starriwaszewski asked for some Clace jealousy. There was a little, but I'll be adding more in the future. Because jealous Jace=protective Jace. And everyone loves protective Jace.**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

 _This story is inspired by the song Superheroes by The Script_

* * *

Jace

Izzy stares at me in shock. " _Clary?"_ she repeats. "The girl you're talking about is _Clary?"_ I glare at my friend.

"I know it may seem weird, but-"

"Jace, there are many problems with this," Izzy says, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest. "First of all, there's the three year age gap. Which isn't that big of a deal, but it might be for such an innocent girl like Clary. Second, you barely know this girl! And from what I've observed, she doesn't seem all that interested in you in that way."

"Izzy, I've known her for about a week. We've talked a decent amount. Isn't a week enough to ask someone out? It's not like I'm in love with the girl!" Izzy opens her mouth, but then snaps in closed again. Then she stands up.

"We'll talk about this later in a more comfortable environment. I can barely hear you and I've been drinking, so I can't think straight." I smirk and also stand up. I walk back over to the bar and sit down, waiting for Clary to come back.

I might sound extremely lame for going to a club and spending the whole time at the bar, but there's something fascinating with talking to the red head.

I look over and see her pouring shots for a bunch of college frat boys. From what I can tell, they're trying to flirt with her. And Clary is flat out ignoring them. It makes me feel better that she isn't the one to fall for any random guy.

Clary

These random guys are dicks.

I've never seen them around before. All six of the claim to go to NYU. Apparently this is some kind of summer get together. At first I try to keep up polite conversation as I make their drinks, but I soon start to ignore them. They're all too drunk to care anyways.

After I finish with them, ignoring the requests for my number, I scurry to another part of the bar. I'm relieved to see Jace is back. He's sitting there with a small smirk playing on his lips. I sigh dramatically and put my elbows on the counter with a loud thump. Then I put my head in my hands.

Jace's deep laughter enters my ears. The sound makes me tingle inside.

I stand up again, making sure my manager didn't see that. Thankfully he's nowhere in sight.

My breath hitches as I look at Jace. In the little while he was gone, I have seemed to forgot how attractive he is. His god like body and chiseled face along with his perfectly tousled golden curls make him quite the sight.

I recover from my slight falter, and start to make him another whiskey.

I still feel bad for lying about earlier. But I couldn't tell him the real reason I tackled Simon. He would laugh at me.

"What was Izzy calling you over for?" I ask, trying to break the silence. Jace shrugs.

"Nothing important. It was just about her brother." I raise my eyebrows.

"She has a brother?" I ask, surprised that Izzy, the queen of talking about herself, has never mentioned them.

"Two, actually," he says. "Three, if you count me."

"How'd you and Izzy meet?" Jace hesitates.

"I got her out of a tight situation a couple years ago. Then we've just been hanging out ever since." I nod my head, trying to push away my annoyance from his evasive answer.

"Do you know Izzy's brothers?" I ask Jace. He raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah. I'm pretty close with both of them. There's Alec, who's twenty-five. He's with with boyfriend right now. Something about helping him at his job? I don't know. I'm not exactly sure. Then there's Max. He's turning fifteen in a couple of months. He's a total nerd, and totally sweet." I smile as he describes each of the boys.

Suddenly a busty blonde comes up to the bar and sits on Jace's lap. He totally tunes me out in a couple of seconds, his eyes on the girl in front of him. I frown in annoyance, and walk away when Jace starts grabbing the girl's ass.

"Hey, Clare." I turn to see Jordan and Maia at the end of the bar. It's peak time on a busy night so there are now two other bartenders besides me and Maia at the bar tonight. I glance around quickly, making sure that no one needs me, then I make my way over to two people I talk to sometimes.

I wouldn't call Maia and Jordan friends. They keep trying to get personnel with me, and I push them away when the conversation turns to me. But I do enjoy talking to Jordan. I don't know him well enough to consider him a friend, though.

"Hi, guys," I say, walking over. Just then I hear a whistle from a middle aged man. Maia sighs.

"I'll get that," she says.

I look at Jordan. His eyes are narrowed.

"Are you going to tell me where those bruises are really from?" I wince. When I handed him his drink, some of it splashed onto my arm. Without thinking, I wiped it off with a towel. It caused the foundation to come off, freeing the dark patches of skin I have on my arm.

"I told you," I say, trying to keep my voice straight. "Simon and I were horsing around earlier today. He was about to fall, and he gripped my wrist." Jordan still looks skeptical. "You can ask him! Oh! And I also side tackled him." He still doesn't look convinced, but at least he stopped asking questions.

I quick glance at the clock behind me shows that my shift ends if five minutes. So I finish up with a couple more people, then grab my stuff and head out of the club. Just before I leave, I see Jace on the dance floor making out with the busty blonde chick. I'm not sure why, but it hurts to watch. So I run out.

 **-Superheroes-**

I'm not sure he even had a reason to do it. My brother came home, totally wasted, and for no reason, slapped me, threw my on the ground, and kicked me a couple of times. Then he just walked out, not saying a word.

Now I'm in my room assessing the huge bruises I'm getting on my stomach and side. I don't cry, I don't feel bad for myself, and I don't feel mad in any way. Instead I just grab my returned sketchbook and open to a new page. I climb out onto the fire escape and let my hands do the work.

I finish, seeing I drew another picture of my brother. His tall figure standing over me; his eyes boring into mine.

I sigh, close my sketchbook, and climb back into my room. Then I fall onto my bed and pass out.

 **A/N: It's short. I'm sorry.**

 **Anyway, here's another Clace idea.**

The Bay Window

Technically, I'm not allowed to be his friend. We run in different circles. We hang out with different people. Our personalities are completely different. No one knows we're friends. Or even that we know each other. And I don't blame them. Because no one knows about the bay window.

 **I feel like whenever I get a story idea, I need to share it with someone. Who better to share it with than you guys?**

 **Just so you know, a lot of my stories can kind of go off script. The inspirations just flows from my mind to the page. For example, I recently scrapped a story I had been working on for a while. It was supposed to be about an annoying "brother's best friend" thing where Jace and Clary fall in love over the summer. Somehow the idea got turned into Clary and Jace at a mental rehab facility. Clary being extremely depressed and Jace having sever anger issues. Don't ask. My mind works in ways even I don't understand.**

 **Thank you all for the ideas! And for following, favoriting, and reviewing!**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

 _This story is inspired by the song Superheroes by The Script_

* * *

Clary

I have nothing to do. I'm literally bored out of my mind.

My brother and some of his big burly man friends are in the apartment today. I'm scared to set foot outside of my room. My parents are God knows where doing God knows what with God knows who. I don't give a shit. But it's pouring outside and I don't feel like climbing down the fire escape in such severe weather. So I'm sitting in my room on my phone reading wiki bios on famous artists.

I'm reading about Georgia O'Keefe and her famous flower painting, when I get an incoming text.

 _Unknown:_ _Hey Clary it's Simon. Izzy bought me a phone today._

I smile at the text. Thank God Izzy decided today would be a great day to get her boyfriend a way to communicate. I quickly put his information into my contacts and text him back.

 _Me:_ _Your girlfriend is a life saver. I'm literally dying up in here._

 _Simon:_ _You're lucky. My girlfriend took me to the mall._

 _Me: How do you have my number?_

 _Simon:_ _You gave it to Izzy yesterday, remember?_

Oh yeah. During our little makeover session we exchanged phone numbers. I look down and see I have another text from my friend.

 _Simon:_ _I have to go now. We're going for lunch._

At Simon's mention of lunch, I hear my stomach growl. I look at my alarm clock and see it's already close to noon. I glance out my window. It's still raining, but it doesn't look at hard now.

I have two options: Get lunch here and possibly get into trouble with my brother, or suck it up and get rained on while walking to a coffee joint to eat.

I go for the latter.

I strip from my pajamas and jump into the shower. The water stings the cuts I have on my back, but it also soothes the new bruises I received yesterday night. When I'm done, I step out of the small shower and stand and look at myself in the bathroom mirror. I wince as I examine the huge purple and black bruises on my stomach. The ones on my wrist have faded slightly, but the cuts on my back and shoulders are still visible.

I walk out of the bathroom and over to my small closet. I pull on jean capris and a short sleeve black blouse with a lace design. Then I pull on my sneakers and grab a light blue rain jacket. I take my time on my hair, putting in some product that reduces frizz. Then I brush it out until it's neat and curly. I apply some light makeup, making sure my bruises on my face and wrist are covered.

I put my hood up, bracing myself for the rain. Then I step out onto the fire escape. Immediately the rain soaks me. I keep my head down so the water doesn't cause my foundation to rub off, then I carefully climb down the fire escape.

It's still summer, so it's not cold out. This insures I don't get hypothermia while I walk to get lunch.

The place I'm going to is a small coffee joint called Java Jones. They have cheap and delicious coffee and food, so it's my go to spot when I need to eat out of the house. Thankfully I haven't been here for a couple of months. That means my family hasn't warded me out of the house in a while.

I enter the dry comfort of the coffee house, taking off my wet jacket. I comb my fingers through my hair and then walk up to the counter. I get my coffee then sit down at a table near the front.

I glance around the little shop. It's pretty crowded for a small local place like this. I hear the door open and I look up to see who just walked in. My eyes lock on his golden hair.

Jace hasn't noticed me yet, so I slump down into my seat and turn my body. I get glimpses of him ordering his coffee and flirting with the barista. Then he receives his drink, turns around, and that's when he sees me. I watch a smirk appear on his face, and I politely smile in his direction.

Unfortunately, Jace walks across Java Jones to stand in front of my table.

"Hey, Red," he says. I blush, realizing this is the first time we've seen each other outside of Pandemonium.

"Hi, Jace. How are you?" I ask.

"Nursing a hangover. I got fucking wasted last night." I laugh a little at his statement. It makes me feel a little better, too. Maybe he wasn't in his right mind when he was making out with that blonde girl.

"I haven't seen you around here before," he says, switching the subject. I give a small smile.

"I don't come here often. It's been a couple months. Coming here is kind of a rare treat," I explain.

Silence takes over the conversation. I can see Jace looking me up and down. I shift in my seat, a little uncomfortable.

"You know, this is the first time I've seen you in regular clothes. And without your hair up." I don't know what to say, so I just smile and continue to look at him.

The awkward silence is broken by Jace's phone buzzing. He curses and then pulls it out of his back pocket. Jace takes a quick look at his phone. His expressions hardens and he quickly puts the phone back in his pocket.

"Clary, I have to go. Something came up-" He looks around the coffee shop real quick before turning back to me. "It was really nice seeing you." He's about to dash out of Java Jones, but he hesitates. He turns to me one more time. "Do me a favor and wear your hair down more often." And then he's out of there.

A smile slowly creeps onto my face as I watch Jace disappear. I look down at my coffee and blush. The feeling of butterflies in my stomach is impossible to explain.

Jace

I run out Java Jones, silently cursing my best friend. He literally has the worst timing. I feel my phone buzz and I pause to look at the text I just got.

 _Alec:_ _Hurry up. I have a date this afternoon._

I don't bother responding. Instead I resume my running to the police station. I reach the building and dash inside. I hand the guy at the front desk a card. He scans it and hands it back to me. Then I quickly walk towards Alec's office.

Alec Lightwood is Izzy's brother. He used to be an underground fighter like me. But then he met his boyfriend, and he decided to quit the illegal stuff and become a detective. He's never busted the place I fight. Says he doesn't feel like going through the trouble. But I know that secretly he just doesn't want to arrest his friends. Me be one of them, I'm thankful for that.

I burst into the small room with Alec's name on the door. I'm greeted with the sight of Alec at his desk, looking at his computer. When I walk into his office, he just looks up slightly.

"You're late," he says. I roll my eyes and take a seat across from him.

Alec is tall. Taller than me. He has the same black hair as Izzy, but instead of dark eyes he has light blue ones. You might not realize it the first time you meet him, but Alec is gay.

"Sorry, dude," I say. "This hangover has thrown me off." Alec smiles slightly.

"I'm not going to ask."

Alec looks at his computer again, clicking on a few things, then turning the screen so I can see it. My breath catches in my throat as I look at the familiar man on the screen.

"That's him," I say. Alec reaches onto his desk and pulls out the drawing I gave him.

"Where'd you get this anyway?" he asks. "I don't think any of the artists here are this good." Not wanting to tell him I stole it from an 18 year old's sketchbook, I just shrug.

I fix my gaze back onto the computer screen. The white blonde hair, almost black eyes, pale skin and built figure all make this guy extremely intimidating. And extremely familiar.

"Jonathon Morgenstern," I read. The name of the man is printed under the photo. I look up at Alec. "Where did you get this anyway?"

"He was in our criminal database. He has a history of violence and sexual assault. He's at NYU. Twenty one years old."

"Why haven't I seen him around before?" I ask. Alec shrugs.

"He's near the other side of Manhattan. Maybe he's visiting family or friends over the summer. Probably needs a place to blow off steam."

I had contacted Alec a couple of days ago asking if he could identify someone. I sent him the drawing and he was skeptical at first, but eventually agreed to help me. I usually don't do this kind of thing, but there was something about this guy that made me uneasy. The fights I participate in are strictly for money and a little fun. I'm actually good friends with some of the guys I fight. It might sound strange, but that's just how it works. But Jonathon showed up, and during one of his fights almost killed someone.

Alec looks at the clock on his wall and jumps up. "Shit! Magnus is going to kill me!" I smirk.

"Where're you guys going for your date tonight?" I don't miss the blush that appears on my friend's face.

"The club he owns," Alec grumbles. "Pandemonium." I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

"That's Magnus' club?" I ask. Alec nods.

"You know it?"

"Do I know it? It's where I've been going for the past week!"

"Are you going tonight?"

I think about it for a second before answering.

"I'll ask Izzy and see if she wants to go." Alec's expression turns serious.

"You can come on one condition."

"Name it."

"You can't talk to me for the entire night."

 **-Superheroes-**

I'm at Izzy's apartment. She insisted that she teaches me how to do my makeup the way that she does. I declines at first, but then I realized I didn't have a choice. So here I am, holding actual makeup brushes and applying God knows what to my face.

When I'm finished, I'm actually pretty impressed with my work. I smile at myself in the mirror. Then I start to change into my bartending uniform.

Magnus wants me on the long shift again tonight. So I need to leave at 4:30. My job is ridiculous. Since it's still down pouring, Izzy insisted that she drives me there. Well, she says that she doesn't want my makeup and hair to get messed up.

When I finish pulling on my boots, I start on my hair. I try to accomplish the bun that Izzy did on me yesterday, but I fail miserably. So I just curl my hair into actual tame waves, and then throw it up into my signature high ponytail.

I hear a knock on the door from downstairs. I also hear Izzy answer it. I can't hear the conversation that goes on, and I don't try to listen either.

As I finish readjusting my outfit, Izzy barges into her room, causing me to jump.

"Magnus is your manager?" I look at her, confused, and nod my head. Izzy laughs.

"What's so funny?" I ask her, honestly a little scared of her current state.

"Magnus is my brother's boyfriend! They're going on a date there tonight and Jace-"

"What does Jace have to do with this?" Izzy frowns.

"If you would just let me finish, Clary, then you would already know." I roll my eyes. "My brother, Alec, is a detective. Apparently Jace was at the station today and kind of invited himself. So we're all going to the club tonight. And you're going to bartend for us!"

So this is why Magnus wanted me working the long shift. Because when he goes out, either for meetings, dates, or sometimes both, he can never be a good manager. So he appoints me at bar because he trusts me to keep things up and running.

"Is Jace still here?" I ask, a note of hopefulness in my tone. Izzy smiles at me.

"Yeah. He's in my living room." My stomach does back flips. I can't believe he's right downstairs.

Izzy looks at me and frowns. "Hold still, Clary." She reaches for the foundation on the dresser next to me and gently applies it to a spot on my face. Then she sets it with powder. "You know you should go to the police, right?"

"Izzy, it's not that bad," I lie. "It's just a few slaps now and then, and he always apologizes afterwards." Bullshit. "And plus he'll be going back to college soon, so I don't have to worry." Literally everything I've said is untrue. The abuse is bad, it's more than slaps across the face, and Jonathon goes back in a couple of weeks.

I've never actually told anyone how bad the abuse is. Even Simon thinks it's just slaps. I don't tell him about how bad Jonathon actually hurts me.

Izzy looks unconvinced, but seems to brush it off. Then she pulls me in for a hug. I wince at the light pressure applied onto my bruises, but thankfully she doesn't notice.

"Okay, Iz," I say, pulling away from her. "We better get going or we're going to be late."

Both of us walk out of her room. I take a deep breath before quietly starting to descend the steps. Izzy has a totally different idea, as she clomps down them yelling, "Okay, bitches! Let's get this show on the road!"

Jace is standing in the living room with his back facing the stair case. But when Izzy starts yelling, he turns around to face us. His gaze falls on me. I watch his eyes rake over my body. When he reaches my face, he frowns.

Jace makes his way over to me. My breath hitches when he stops right in front of me. I realize this is the closest we've ever been. His hand reaches behind my head. I have no idea what his intentions are until my hair comes out of my ponytail and falls over my shoulders.

"I told you to wear it down," he whispers huskily. I shiver when his hand lightly grazes the back of my neck.

Then he's gone. I sigh quietly in disappointment. Then I scold myself for feeling this way about Jace. I mean, he's three years older than me. I don't even know his last name, and I barely know anything about him.

"You coming?" Simon asks me from the doorway. I nod my head and scurry after him.

We stand in the elevator in silence. I'm standing next to Jace. We're close. Too close. There's plenty of room in here, yet Jace decided to stand right next to me. When it dings, I quickly step out, trying to get as far away from Jace as possible.

We walk through the parking garage until we reach a sleek black porsche. My mouth falls open.

"I get to ride in _this?_ " I ask, turning to Izzy. She laughs lightly as she climbs into the drivers seat.

"It's okay, Red. I've known her for years and the luxury hasn't become normal yet," Jace mutters as he passes me.

Simon takes shotgun, causing Jace to grumble a few words that aren't deemed polite. So him and me end up sitting in the back of the car. Even though there's a space between us, it's still kind of awkward.

I try to think of how many times I've seen Jace in the past week. Has it really only been a week? He's come to Pandemonium _every single night_. That's kind of crazy. What does he do for a day job? It's a complete coincidence how we're both connected to the Lightwoods in some way. It's the the universe in pushing us together.

I can't say I'm fond of Jace. I mean, he seems like a nice enough guy. But I've heard from Izzy how he treats women. Humps them and dumps them. For example, he'll probably never contact the blonde girl from last night again. And he's super closed off and mysterious. Plus he can be arrogant and rude.

But at the same time, I find myself liking this man more and more each day. He has some kind of effect on me that attracts me to him. It's not just his hot body and attractive qualities. It's his personality. The way he goes about doing things.

He reminds me of me.

I'm broken out of my thoughts as Izzy swerves out of the way of a truck. I look up, eyes wide.

"My God, woman. Are you trying to kill us?" I say with a glare. I hear Jace snicker from next to me.

"Yeah, Iz. Your driving skills are as crap as your cooking skills," he says. Simon laughs when this is said.

"Hey! _You_ try driving in the city at night!" she retorts. I see Jace raise an eyebrow.

"I bet that Clary can drive one hundred times better than you can. Right, Red?" I look at him with a blank stare on my face. I fiddle with my hands and feel a slight blush form on my cheeks.

"I've actually never driven a car before."

" _What?_ " all three people in the car with me exclaim.

It's true. I've never driven before. Partly because we live in a city, partly because my parents would never give up their time to help me get a licence. I've had no interest in driving before. I mean, I don't need it. But now I'm eight-teen and I haven't even sat in the drivers seat before.

"Geez, Red. You really are city bound. What kind of parents do you have?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," I mutter under my breath.

The rest of the short ride is silent. When we park in front of Pandemonium, I jump out of the car and head inside. The club is quiet and empty, but the bar is surprisingly full. Happy hour does start in a couple of minutes, though.

"Your late," Maia whispers when I drop my bag. I glare at her.

"Sorry. My friend's a shit driver." That's the thing about Maia. You never know how she's going to be that day. Sometimes she's sweet and helpful, other times she's bossy and rude. I guess today is one of her off days.

Out of the corner of my eye I see my friends enter the club. They weren't that far behind me, but if I had to guess I would say that Simon and Jace got into some sort of argument. Sure enough, both of their fists are clenched and Isabelle is wedged between them.

I work on people's drinks. The bar is already crowded and the rest of the club is opening pretty soon. It's almost been an hour since we've arrived. Jace, Izzy, and Simon are on the other end of the bar. My end is too crowded.

I finish mixing a margarita and hand it to someone, when I hear someone to my left say, "Hey, biscuit!" I look up and see my very sparkly manager with a tall man that looks a lot like Izzy.

"Hey, Magnus!" I say back. Magnus is an Asian man. He has short black hair styled into spikes and yellow cat eyes. He wears bright and sparkly outfits 24/7 along with makeup. In other words, he's openly gay.

"Alec, this is biscuit. Biscuit, this is Alexander." I drop the towel I have in my hand and hold it out. Alec takes it. I smile at him.

"I'm Clary," I say. He smiles a little.

"You can call me Alec." I beam at him.

"You know, you look exactly like your sister," I say. Alec looks like he's been caught off guard.

"You know Izzy?" I nod slightly.

"Yeah. She's over there." I gesture to the other end of the bar where she's sitting. Simon and her are sitting close. Simon's arm is around her waist and they're both looking in our direction. Izzy's waving at her brother and Simon has a nervous smile on his face. Jace is sitting next to Simon being the obvious third wheel. He's facing the other direction and sipping a glass of brown liquid.

"We're staying over here," Alec mumbles. I laugh.

"What can I get you?"

Magnus orders a martini and Alec asks for an Old Fashioned. I get to work making their drinks. When I'm done, I hand both of them their beverages. Magnus takes a sip of his martini.

"And this is why you should hire all of your bartenders at age 15." I blush and quickly thank him.

"You've worked here since you were 15?" Alec asks, raising an eyebrow. Then he turns to his boyfriend. "The legal age to start bartending is-"

"I know, Alexander," Magnus says, cutting him off. "But biscuit was in a low place, and I needed the extra help. Plus she didn't start serving drinks until she was sixteen." Alec grumbles something that sounds like "I can't believe my boyfriend breaks the law so damn much." Then Magnus says a quick goodbye. I wave and then move to a person who just sat down.

"Biscuit, huh?" I look up at the person who just sat down. "I like my nickname better, Red." I roll my eyes.

"You want anything?"

"Nah, just want to talk." I quickly scan the bar and look back at Jace. Then I cross my arms over my chest and look at him impatiently.

"Jace, I have a bar full of people that I need to take care of. Maybe we can talk later tonight?" Jace smirks and shakes his head.

"Lucky for you, the bar isn't your responsibility anymore," he says. "I got you the night off." My eyes widen as I look at him in shock.

"What?" He shrugs.

"Alec and Magnus wanted a date night. I was bored, so I decided to bribe them. If your manager gave you the night off I would stop bugging them. So here we are."

"I can't just _not work,_ " I splutter. "Who will help Maia?" Jace points towards the entrance to the bar. Sure enough, one of the bartenders from the VIP club upstairs is now down here. And he doesn't look happy about it.

"What about my tips?" I protest. Jace reaches in his back pocket and pulls out a stack of wadded bills. "Jace-"

"It's not mine. It's Izzy's. She gave it to you as a thank you for playing human Barbie with her. Now take the damn cash and get your ass on this side of the bar."

I grin appears on my lips. Then I kick off the boots I have on and drop them with the rest of my stuff. Then I run out of the bar and to where Jace is. He's standing at a slightly different area at the bar now. In front of the new bartender.

"What are we waiting for?" I ask. "Let's dance!" I start to walk away, but Jace places a hand on my shoulder and spins me around. "What?" I ask with a pout, crossing my hands over my chest. Jace lets out a deep laugh.

"You need a drink first." My eyes bug out.

"Jace!" I hiss. "I'm underage!" He raises an eyebrow.

"You're telling me you've never drank before." I shake my head. Jace brings his hand up to his forehead and sighs.

"We've got a lot of work to do," he says. Just then the bartender sets two shots in front of us. I recognize them immediately.

"Red Headed Sluts?" I says, raising an eyebrow. Jace hands me a shot and then takes the other one.

"Well, you are what you drink," he jokes.

 _You slut._

 _Worthless slut._

 _Stupid slut._

 _Slut._

 _Slut._

 _Slut._

"I'm not a slut," I whisper. Jace looks at me. He has a concerned expression on his face.

"Clary? Are you okay? I was just joking, you know that, right?"

I snap out of my trance, and look into Jace's golden eyes.

"I know. I'm just- sorry," I finish weakly. Then to avoid anymore conversation on this topic, I tilt my head back and down the shot. It burns as it goes down my throat. I squint my eyes and swallow. After a few moments, the burning feeling subsides and it's replaced by a floating sensation.

I watch Jace take the shot, hardly flinching. He looks at me. "You're good?" I nod and giggle. Jace smirks. "I knew you'd be lightweight." I frown and gently hit his arm.

"I'm not drunk," I say. My voice is stable and firm. Jace laughs.

"You won't get drunk after one shot. But you're tipsy, no doubt about that."

Jace orders one more round of shots before we make our way to the dance floor. At first I feel out of place, but as soon as I start dancing I don't care about what other people think. Jace and I dance together. At one point I get brave and start grinding on him.

We stay in the middle of all those people for a while before going back to the bar. Jace orders me a Vodka Martini and himself some other drink. We sit down at the bar.

"You promise you're not trying to get me drunk so I'll have sex with you?" I find myself saying.

"I promise." To my surprise, there's no humor behind his tone. He sounds one hundred percent serious.

We sit in silence sipping our drinks. There's pounding music in the room, but it seems so much quieter than it actually is.

"What's your last name?" I find myself saying, turning to the man beside me. Jace chuckles before answering.

"For what reason would you like to know my name?" he asks. I shrug and look him in the eyes.

"If you don't tell me I'll just ask Izzy." This causes Jace to laugh. Then he gets serious.

"Wayland," he says with a smile. "Jonathon Christopher Wayland." I raise my eyebrows.

"Your first name is Jonathon?" He nods. "My brother's name is Jonathon." I see Jace tense. What's that about?

"What about your name?" he asks in a strained voice. I look at him in confusion before answering.

"Clarissa Adele Morgenstern." Jace's eyes turn dark. "Are you okay?" I ask, even though he's clearly not.

"I'm fine," he growls. His stance and expression I've seen before. It's the way Jon looks before he starts hitting me. I need to get out of here. Now.

"I'm going to go home," I say abruptly. I stand up and go to the other side of the bar. I put my shoes on and grab my stuff. Then I start for the exit of the club. At the last second I decide going home isn't worth it. So I scan the club for my manager. Magnus is sitting at a table with Alec. I walk up to him trying not to trip in my dazed state.

After receiving a key for one of the bedrooms on the second floor, I walk over to the staircase. Pandemonium has these rooms for celebrities or employers. It's like a mini hotel above the club. Magnus has let me stay in the rooms a couple of times. I only stay here when I need to.

I throw my stuff in the corner of the room and grab a water from the fridge. Then I sit down on the bed.

"What the hell is up with Jace?" I mutter to myself.

 **A/N: And that, ladies and gentleman, is the longest chapter I have ever written. I wanted to write it for two reasons.**

 **1\. In honor of finishing my other story.**

 **2\. I have to go back to school tomorrow. So updates won't be as frequent.**

 **Thank you all for your ideas and support!**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

* * *

 _This story is inspired by the song Superheroes by The Script_

* * *

Jace

I haven't seen Clary in five days. After I found out Jonathon was her brother, I couldn't stand to be in the same room as her. I doubt she knows how much trouble her brother has caused. She probably looks up to him. I couldn't ruin his reputation for her.

But the time I spent with Clary a few nights ago... it was indescribable. I loved dancing with her. I loved being the one who gave her her first drink. I loved talking with her.

During the time I was with her, there was one that moment that confused me. She froze. She seemed to get lost. I don't know what that was or why that happened, but it was clear that she didn't want to talk about it.

I'm broken out of my thoughts by a loud bang on my apartment door. I clench my fists and sigh, knowing who stands on the other side. I get up of the couch and slowly walk towards the door. There's another round of loud knocking.

"I'm coming!" I yell. I reach the door and grab the knob. Then I swing it open and look at the man who stands there. His dirty blonde hair and dull blue eyes are the first thing I see. I'm the same height as him now. But I'm stronger now, and unlike him I'm sober. He would be stupid to try to fight me.

His mouth opens into a cracked grin. I smell the alcohol in his breath.

"Jace," he says, spreading his arms wide. I keep my expression cold, trying not to kill him right then and there.

"Stephen," I reply. His smile dissipates. He staggers back and forth a couple of times before regaining his balance and sneering at me.

"That's no way to greet you father," he says. I take a small step forward and look him in the eye.

"You aren't my father." His sneer turns more venomous and he takes a step forward. We're right next to each other.

"Give me my money," he growls. I try not to lose my cool.

"It's not yours," I say.

"Give it to me! Now!" he shouts. I notice his fists are clenched and his feet are set. He looks like he's about to throw himself at me. If he does, if not sure what I would do. He hit me for years, but I'm not sure if I would ever hit him back.

"Jonathon," he says with so much venom, I actually take a step back. Memories of the abuse start to surface from the places I've buried them. The memories of being kicked around and thrown around like I was nothing.

I am nothing.

I step backwards into the apartment and grab my wallet. I fish out all the bills that are in the leather case and forcefully put them into Stephen's hand.

I'm a coward.

My drunken father beams at me. "That's a good boy, Jace." I don't respond. I don't know how to. "I'll see you next month."

I slam the door after her disappears. I give a shout of anger and punch the nearest wall.

It's been five years. _Five years_ since I've gotten out of that hell hole I called a home. _Five years_ since I've gotten away from the demon who called himself my father. And I'm still not able to stand up to him. I can't stand up to him. Because no matter how strong I try to make myself look, I'm not. He made me weak. He made me a coward.

Without thinking it through, I grab my wallet and jacket and head out of my apartment. I need a drink.

 **-Superheroes-**

It's late, already past midnight. But Pandemonium is still crowded. The club is crowded with dancing bodies, making the air humid and the atmosphere a little uncomfortable. The bar is also filled with people, but most of them just get their drinks and go back to the dance floor. I find an empty seat and look up and down the bar.

"Give me the strongest whiskey you have," I tell the bartender. He nods and grabs a bottle from behind him. He quickly asks if I want ice. I shake my head no, and he hands me a glass with the brown liquid. I take an impressive swig of the drink, welcoming the burning sensation it provides.

I'm now pretty much broke. I gave all the money I had on me to my father. This means the next few days will be filled with fighting other men. I scowl into my glass, already not looking forward to the week ahead of me.

I sit at the bar alone. No one dares approach me. I keep my head down, hoping no girls approach me. The only distraction I need tonight is the whiskey.

After ordering a couple more rounds of the whiskey, someone comes up to me and tells me that the club is closing. I don't protest. I just down what's left in my glass and walk out of the building. I try to walk in as straight as a line as possible, but I've had a little too much to drink.

I stagger down the nearly abandoned streets of New York City trying to direct myself home. I find my apartment after walking down whatever street I could. I'm drunk, and even my drunk self knows this.

I bang open the door to my apartment and slam it again, just before I pass out on the couch.

 **-Superheroes-**

 _"Celine, you worthless good for nothing wife."_

 _"Boy! Get your sorry ass out of here!_

 _"Jace, honey, I love you."_

 _"Get away from your mother, Jonathon."_

 _"Jace. Listen to me. You have to stay strong."_

 _"SHUT UP! I SAID SHUT UP!"_

 _"Mother loves you, Jace."_

 _"JONATHON! GET AWAY FROM HER!"_

 _"NO! MOM!"_

The sound of a gunshot wakes me up. The memories of my father murdering my mother put me back into a cold sweat. It's then that I realize a gun didn't wake me up. My apartment door has been slammed open. I groan in pain as the effects from the whiskey last night greet me. My head is pounding and my throat is dry. I sit up and see Izzy standing in my doorway.

"What do you want, Iz," I mumble as I lay back down on my couch. I don't see her, but I can tell that Izzy is pissed.

"Jace, you haven't responded to any of my texts or calls for three days! What is up with you?" Then she seems to notice my current state, because she's suddenly standing in front of me. "Oh, Jace-" she stops. Her tone is sympathetic. Izzy and Alec both know about my father. They know about his monthly visits to see me and take all of my money. And they know that during this time they should stay away from me.

Izzy walks in the direction of my kitchen. I hear her open a few cabinets, and then she's back in front of me. Izzy sets a couple pills and a large glass of water in front of me. Then she silently walks out of my apartment.

I don't know how long I just lay there. I don't touch the water or swallow the pills. I just lay there. Once I got up to throw up, but that was it.

After a while, I finally sit up. I slowly stand up. I shuffle into my bedroom and walk to my closet. I open it and look around through the boxes I have stacked against the back wall. When I find the box I'm looking for, I open it and take out the picture on top. I stagger back and sit on my bed, never taking my eyes off of the picture in my hands.

My mother was beautiful. The picture is of her and me. We're sitting on a blanket in the grass by a pond. She's holding me and I'm laughing. Her eyes are lit up and a huge grin adorns both of our faces.

But if you look at the photo more carefully, you begin to notice a few things. You can see the bruises that peek out from her sleeves and the top of her shirt. She has a large cut on the side of her face that's mostly covered in makeup. Her clothes are kind of old and torn in some places. She has large bags under her eyes and a small amount of fear can be seen in her eyes.

When I was seven, I saw my mother murdered right in front of my eyes. What was even worse was that my dad was the one who pulled the trigger that night. He was the one who took her from me.

I throw the picture across the room. The frame shatters when it hits the wall. Pieces of wood and glass fly in all different directions. I put my head in my hands and try to calm myself down. Even though I had nothing to do with my mom's death, I still blame myself for it every single day. Somehow it's my fault. I wasn't strong enough.

I stand up, swaying slightly. Then I reach under my bed and pull out the small black song book. I open it and glance at the notes I have written on the page. Simon's song is spread out among the pages, and the final product neatly written in the back. I asked him about it one day, and he told me it was just a bunch of notes he had thrown together one day. No lyrics, no nothing. Just a bunch of notes.

I sit there, staring blankly at the page. As if being controlled, I go back under my bed and bring out a dusty guitar case. I prefer the piano, but I can't afford one.

I haven't touched this guitar in months.

I start to softly strum the chords, trying to make the moldy work on the different instrument. Hours later, I've rearranged the piece on a different page so it can be played on the guitar.

I close my eyes and rest. I've been working at this for a long time. As I lay there in my own thoughts, I suddenly remember a rhyme my mother would say. The days after she was beaten bloody and I was scared for my life, she would hold me in her arms and repeat the same words over and over.

 _Every day, every hour, turn the pain into power._

The words that kept me going. That kept me alive. The words that finally inspired me to run away from my father.

So if I ran away, why was he still controlling my life?

I jump to my feet. All the energy drained from me over the last few days comes rushing back to me. I rush out of my apartment and run down the stairs. I hail a cab and tell the driver the address.

When I arrive in front of the glistening building, I pay the cab driver and hop out of the car. I walk into The Institute, straightening my jacket. I always feel out of place in this fancy ass place. But the feeling of displacement has slowly gone down over the years.

I flash a dazzling smile at the receptionist. I see her sigh at my gaze. I walk past the desk and to the elevator. I press the button on the elevator. When it's Izzy's floor, I walk out of the small space. I walk straight forward and knock on the door.

It swings open almost immediately, and who stands there is not who I was expecting.

Clary is in the doorway. Her hair is thrown up messily. She's wearing a tight tank top and sweatpants. She has some kind of blue clay on her face. I see her emerald eyes widen in surprise as she tilts her head up to meet my gaze.

"Jace?" she says. I smirk.

"Last time I checked," I reply. Clary breaks into a grin. Then she lunges forward and catches me completely off guard when she pulls me in for a brief hug.

"I haven't seen you at Pandemonium in almost a week! Are you okay?" She pulls back, and a part of me is extremely disappointed she did.

"I'm fine." Clary looks skeptical. "At least I am now."

"Clary!" I hear Izzy yell from inside her penthouse. "Who the hell are you talking to?"

"Jace is here!" she yells back, matching Isabelle's volume. I'm momentarily impressed, because I've never met anyone who could yell as loud as my friend.

"Jace?" I hear Izzy's heels clicking on the floor. Suddenly she's in the door frame next to Clary. Izzy has a dangerous look on her face. She's trying to appear calm, but I can see the complete and utter rage in her eyes. "Clary, can you give us a moment?" The small girl nods, and she's gone.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Izzy whisper yells. I take a step back, shocked by her harsh words.

"Shit," I grumble. "No need to be hostile." Izzy takes a step towards me and pushes a finger onto my chest.

"I saw you this morning, and you weren't fine. _At all._ " I open my mouth to protest, but Izzy continues her rant. "And here you are, only hours later at my apartment-"

"Penthouse," I correct. She glares at me.

"-when my friend is over, with no warning, while you're in a dangerous state of mind!" No words come out of my mouth, because there's really nothing to say.

Finally after what seems like hours of silence, Izzy speaks. "Do you remember what happened last time?" she says in a quiet voice. I direct my gaze to the floor. Of course I remember what happened last time.

After my dad came to collect my money, Alec called and asked me to come hang out with him and a couple of friends. Thinking it would be a good idea to get my mind off of things, I agreed and went over to his apartment. But I wasn't mentally okay in the moment. I was mad and depressed and ended up getting really drunk. Then later that night with all the alcohol in my body, I almost killed one of Magnus' friends out of rage.

"Please," I find myself pleading. "Just let me see Clary." A look of shock appears on Isabelle's face.

"You want to see Clary?" she asks. I nod. I look straight into Izzy's dark eyes, until she finally gives in and opens the door. "Come on in. Don't do anything stupid."

 **A/N: I feel really bad. Like, really really bad. It's been forever since I've updated! Actually it's only been about a week, but it still felt like so long. From now on I'll try to make my chapters longer. But this is all I could get out onto the table at the moment.**

 **Thank you so much for supporting this story!**

 **Please let me know if you have any ideas for the future. All things will be considered!**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

* * *

 _This story is inspired by the song Superheroes by The Script_

* * *

Jace

I walk into Isabelle's apartment. And as soon as I take a look around, I want to run back out.

The place is completely trashed. There's clothes, blankets, pillows, and food scattered all over the floor. My OCD kicks in and I almost yell out in frustration. This is one of the reasons I try to stay out of Izzy's place. More than half the time the huge place is a mess.

"Clary's been crashing here for a couple of days," Izzy says, as if that explains why her penthouse is turned upside down.

I do a quick 360 and look around the entire main living space.

"Where'd Red go?" I ask. I turn back around to face Izzy. She hesitates before answering.

"She's... upstairs. She had to take care of something." And then she bolts up the stairs. I watch her until she's out of sight. Then I smile and shake my head. Even after knowing her for years, I still can't figure her out. I flop down onto a clean spot on the couch and wait.

" _Clary!"_ I hear Izzy screech from upstairs. The tone of her voice is pure fear and distress. I jump to my feet and sprint up the stairs. I burst through Izzy's bedroom door expecting to find the red head in a bloody tangled mess on the floor. Instead the scene is much different from what I expected.

Clary is jumping on Izzy's plush bed in her bartending uniform. She has a phone in her hand and is holding it as high as she can. Izzy is standing at the foot of the bed, glaring up at her friend.

"Give it back," she snaps. Clary grins evilly.

"No thanks!" she says in a sing song voice. I smirk as she starts to jump higher and type something on the phone. "Hmm... what should I text Simon?"

"NO!" Izzy yells so loud I wince. Even Clary seems to falter for a second, but her smile quickly returns.

That's when the red head seems to notice me standing at the front of the room.

"Hey, Jace! Want to join in? Izzy's phone is so cool. I can't believe- woah!" Clary loses her balance and she starts to fall. She's about to hit the floor, but thank God for my quick instincts. I leap forward and catch her before she gets hurt. Clary lands lightly into my arms.

I lose my breath for a second. Clary lays in my arms. Her red hair is wild and crazy, she has no makeup on, and her uniform is all messed up now. But I could look into those green eyes forever.

Clary's breath seems to hitch, as if she can also feel the connection I can.

"Um, Jace?" I hear her say softly. I subconsciously lean in a little bit towards her. "You can put me down now." I snap back and immediately set her to the ground. I try to keep my face calm and collected, but on the inside I'm burning with embarrassment. I quickly erase all emotion on the inside and out. It's surprisingly easy, probably because I've been doing it for years.

Izzy claps her hands together. "We need to get ready for Pandemonium!" she squeals. I furrow my brows and glance at the alarm clock on Izzy's dresser.

"Wait, didn't Clary's shift start, like, an hour ago?" That's true. I'm pretty sure her shift starts at seven, but it's close to eight thirty now.

"Magnus is opening the club late. He came back from a trip earlier today," Izzy explains. Then she giggles. "Plus there's some famous guy coming, so it's exclusive entry. And Magnus wants all of his staff looking smoking for the special guest!"

Clary groans. "Izzy was trying to plan out my makeup," she says, rolling her eyes. "That's when I stole her phone." The look in Clary's eyes say _"please, please, help me."_ I just smirk and start walking backwards towards the door. The red head's pleading expression turns to a horrified one. Then an angry one.

"I'll leave you two alone," I say as I walk out the door.

"Good!" I hear Izzy say before it's slammed in my face.

I walk down the short hallway into one of the extra rooms. I open the door that leads to Izzy's work space. Then I make my way over to the closet that has my extra clothes into it. I change into a dark blue button down shirt and black pants. I walk over to the mirror and grab some gel from a basket. I style my hair to perfection, then walk out of the room and back downstairs.

When I reach the kitchen I open the fridge and grab a bottle of water. I settle myself at the counter and sit quietly.

Suddenly I hear a buzzing from the other side of the counter. I look and see a phone with a paint splattered case buzzing softly. I lean over and see that she has a text. I know I shouldn't but...

I move over and grab her phone. I see that it's a text from her brother.

 _Jonathon:_ _I found your number. Tell me where you are._

Confusion courses through my brain. It's hard to tell what his tone is in the text. I'm still staring at the screen when I hear a squeal and a small hand grabs the phone out of my hands.

"What are you doing?" Clary says, her voice high and her eyes wide.

"You got a text," I say stupidly. She glares at me then looks down at her phone. I see her face visibly pale. Then she quickly types something with her shaking fingers. Clary looks up at me. Her face has now returned to normal, but you can still tell something's wrong.

"I have to make a call." And then she runs out of the room.

A couple minutes later Clary returns to the kitchen. She appears calm and collected.

"What was that?" I ask, hoping the worry isn't too apparent in my voice. A tight smile graces Clary's lips.

"I had to change my number. I left it for my brother a piece of paper with the information on it. And then he just wanted to know where I was." I study her carefully and try to pick up any signs of a lie. I can't find anything, so I assume she's telling the truth.

But there's a nagging feeling that something's wrong.

That's when I notice Clary's appearance. Her hair is down and curled into waves. It reaches down her back and cascades over her shoulders. Instead of the light natural makeup I'm used to seeing her in, she has dark and dramatic eyes. The black outline and shimmery black eye shadow make her green eyes vibrant. She's wearing gold hoops and a black velvet choker.

She doesn't look like a kid anymore. Clary actually looks like an adult. Sure, her height is the same. Although she is slightly taller with the boots on. But somehow her curves are more apparent in the attire tonight.

I break my gaze from Clary's body, not caring if I made her uncomfortable in the moment.

"Let us proceed!" Izzy calls from the living room. I didn't even notice her walk past us. Clary seems to to scurry after Isabelle. I slowly follow. "We're walking," she announces.

"Oh no," Clary moans, looking down at her boots. I smirk.

"I can carry you if you want," I offer. Clary's cheeks turn red.

"No thanks," she mumbles.

"You're sure?"

"Oh come on, love birds!" Izzy shouts. "Quit the dilly dally! We have a celebrity to meet!"

 **-Superheroes-**

Sebastian Verlac. Fucking Sebastain Verlac.

The famous movie producer and billionaire; inheritor of the famous Verlac fortune. Of course he's the secret celebrity that appears at Pandemonium tonight.

The guy's big. About as big as me. Which means he clears six feet. He has short black hair and dark eyes. Unlike Izzy's dark eyes, which are warm and bright, his are black and menacing. I watch as he walks across the club, eyeing up women left and right, his eyes always looking lower than they should be.

I grip my glass tighter. Izzy and Simon, who are next to me, are completely oblivious of my current state. They're talking to each other about how cool it is that they're breathing the same air as this guy.

I don't just hate Verlac for no reason. He's had plenty of law suits filed against him for sexual assault and harassment. But he's so goddamn rich that he's been able to buy his way out of any prison time.

My body tenses when I see him approach Clary's side of the bar. He watches her for a little, then finally approaches her. I watch her gaze snap up in surprise as he starts to talk to her. I see Clary blush. Then Sebastian leans forward and seems to whisper something in her ear. I growl when Clary's eyes widen and a small smile appears on her lips. Then she throws down her towel and walks out from behind the bar.

"I knew that makeup would do the trick!" Izzy squeals. I turn around with a murderous expression on my face. "What?" she asks when she sees my expression.

"Do you know his reputation?" I hiss. Izzy slowly shakes her head, but Simon gasps in surprise.

"Wait, isn't he the one who gets charged for sexual assault and domestic abuse every other month?" he says, and expression of fear appearing on his face. Izzy's eyes widen.

"We need to find Clary. I saw her go-" Izzy's brows furrow. She turns the other way, then back around. "I could've sworn I saw her a couple of seconds ago."

"Oh no," I groan. Then I run into the crowd of people, determined to find the red head.

Clary

Sebastian leads me through the crowd of people on the dance floor. I'm still shocked that he asked _me_ to dance with him. Of course I knew who he was and what a big deal this guy is, but I usually don't dance with strangers. No matter how hot they are. But it was a crazy night and I needed a break, so I said "What the hell" and followed the man to the dance floor.

"So how old are you?" I hear him yell over the pounding music.

"Eighteen," I reply, trying to match his volume. I can't see his face well because the club is very dimly lit, but I swear I see him smirk to himself. And not a Jace smirk. A cold smirk.

"I'm twenty-five, you know," he says. Then he suddenly stops and whirls around. "You know my name, but I don't know yours." I hesitate, something about this situation not feeling right.

"I'm Clary," I say after a few moments.

This time Sebastian's cold grin is completely noticeable. He leans down and puts his face in front of mine. I gulp and try to lean back, but his large hands roughly grasp my sides.

"Have you ever been with an older man, Clary?" My eyes widen in fear. I shake my head and try to slip out of his grasp. "How about I become the first?"

"No-no thank you," I stutter. "Now can I please-"

"Clary, you should be smart enough to know that there's no getting out of this." His hot breath fans my face and I feel like I might throw up. All of these people around us, and no one's stopping to help me?

"No thank you," I say again. "Please, just let me get back to my job." Instead of letting me go, Sebastian's grip on my waist tightens slightly. Then he stands up straight to his full massive height.

"I'm getting what I want," he growls. "I always do."

"No!" I say, louder this time. "Let me go!"

Suddenly the man's grip on me disappears. I gasp in surprise when I see Jace in front of me, holding Sebastian by his collar.

"She said no," Jace growls. The people standing around us have backed up, forming a small ring with only Sebastian, Jace, and I in it.

Sebastian chuckles. "And what are you going to do about it, pretty boy?" Jace's grip visibly tightens. His muscles in his arms ripple. A sly grin spreads on his lips.

"This."

I let out a yelp of surprise when Jace's fist comes in contact with the celebrity's face. I watch in horror and the golden man punches him again and again. Sebastian falls to the floor, and it looks like Jace is going to continue. I take in the sight of Sebastian lying helplessly on the floor with a stronger force standing above him.

 _Jonathon standing over me._

 _His foot coming in contact with my ribs._

 _My helpless cries as he continues to hit me._

"STOP!" I scream as loudly as I can. Jace quickly turns toward me, his fist raised in the air. I'm sure I look terrible. I know I have a terrified expression on my face. I can feel tears running down my cheeks.

Jace looks horrified as he slowly lowers his fist. He takes a step away from the man on the floor. Then he turns and swiftly walks out of Pandemonium.

I'm frozen to the spot. I'm not sympathetic for Sebastian. He's a bastard and someone might say he deserved it. But I don't. No one deserves to be in such a helpless situation. And no one should continue to beat someone up after they've fallen to the floor.

It's all too much.

I push past people and run out of the club, going to the one place I know I can relax.

 **A/N: Do you want to build a snowman? No? Okay. But will you at least read the author's note? Thanks.**

 **i have a random question for you guys: Who do you think played Clary and Jace better? Jamie Campbell Bower and Lily Collins or Dominic Sherwood and Katherine McNamara? Let me know if you want! Or do you have a different actor/actress you think would portray the role perfectly? I'm honestly so curious.**

 **There is a kid in my biology class that looks like Jace. I'm not even kidding.**

 **Have any of you seen The Princess Bride? What about Forrest Gump? What about Monty Python and The Holy Grail?**

 **Those are my three favorite movies. If you haven't seen them, you now have three movies to put on your watch list. You're welcome.**

 **Sorry about the ramble. I love you all so much!**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

 **A/N: Listen up people. This is kind of important.**

 **Let me get one thing straight: CLARY IS NOT SCARED OF JACE. Jace is just triggering (not on purpose) things that remind her of the abuse that she's going through.**

 **It would be like if my friend showed me a picture of a caterpillar. You see, I'm terrified of caterpillars. And lets say that friend didn't know. So I end up freaking out because I'm reminded of the traumatic event I went through that involved caterpillars (I'll save that story for another author's note). My friend showed me the picture which triggered the freak out I had. But I'm scared of the memory/the picture; not the friend who showed it to me.**

 **Now imagine you're Clary in this story. (Go ahead, I'm waiting.) Jace triggered the memories of her brother's abuse. She's not scared of Jace, rather what Jace does that reminds her of what she's going through.**

 **PHEW! Got it? Hopefully that makes since. So before you're all like, why is she still hanging out with him if she's scared of him?, just remember what I said.**

 **(Drop the mic.)**

 **Thank you.**

 **Now let's get on with the chapter!**

* * *

 _This story is inspired by the song Superheroes by The Script_

* * *

Clary

I enter the coffee shop and collapse into a seat set for a table of two. It's really late and most stores are closed, but Java Jones is still open and packed to the brim.

I close my eyes and try to listen to the poetry being read up on the stage. It's not great, but anything to distract me from all the craziness in my life right now.

"Can I get you anything?" I hear a voice ask me. I open my eyes and look at the waitress.

"Just water, please," I croak. She nods and hurries off to the next person.

I look around the small room and notice I'm getting strange looks from people. I don't mind, though. I must look really out of place wearing my bartending uniform and having my makeup so heavily done. Everyone else in Java Jones at the moment are either hipsters or staff.

The crowd claps for the man as he finishes reading his poetry. A tall girl wearing grungy clothes and huge glasses takes his place on stage and starts reading from a paper in her hand. Something about broken wings and golden sheep. I'm only half paying attention.

The waitress comes by my table and sets the glass of water and a blueberry scone in front of her. I look up at the middle aged woman curiously.

"It's on the house," she explains. "You look like you're having a rough night." I give a small smile and quietly thank her. Then I take small sips of my water and nibble at the pastry.

I don't know how long I spend just sitting there in the sea of people. I don't care that I'm alone and totally out of place. I don't care that Magnus is going to give me so much shit for running out of my shift early. I cringe at that thought. I guess I really didn't think this through. Hopefully Magnus understands and doesn't fire me.

The clock on the wall tells me it's almost eleven at night. I've been here for an hour. I'm not sure when this place closes. Probably soon, considering the coffee shop is a lot less crowded from when I originally came in.

When the next person is done reading their poems, I hear the door of the shop open with a ding. I keep my eyes on the table not caring who it is. But when someone slides into the chair across from me, I look up, startled.

My brother is now sitting across from me. He's wearing a smile on his face, but the look in his eyes are murderous. I stiffen in my seat, and my hand grips my glass tighter.

"You told me you were working," he snarls, still keeping the nice expression on his face. I quickly glance around the coffee shop, hoping anyone can see my discomfort. But of course since we're in public, Jonathon isn't going to make a scene. And I sure as hell aren't going to cause anything either.

"I asked you a question, Clarissa," he says, his words laced with venom. I refuse to show any more signs of fear. I have the advantage here, since we're in a public place.

"I left early," I say as calmly as I can manage. Jonathon raises an eyebrow and looks at me in furious disbelief.

"You left early," he repeats. "You left early," he says again, raising his voice slightly. I nod and try not to cower away from him.

"That's exactly right," I say, matching his tone and volume. I'm not sure where this sudden boost of confidence came from, but right now _I'm_ in control.

Jonathon chuckles, but there's no humor in it. "You're a pathetic bitch, you know that right?" Despite how I'm feeling right now, I still wince at his words. My brother's gaze turns from furious to slightly humored as he sees my reaction.

"I'm sorry you think that," I spit. Jonathon seems surprised by my retort. Then his eyes narrow and his mouth opens like he's about to say something, but I keep talking. "I may be a bitch, but I'm not pathetic. If anything, _you're_ the pathetic one. Too stupid to get into college, so mom and dad had to pay full costs for it. Not able to hold a job if you're life depended on it. Going off and doing God knows who every other night, coming home drunk as fuck. Taking all of your anger out on your baby sister, who is probably the only person you can beat in a fight."

As soon as the words stop spilling out of my mouth, I know that I've gone too far. Jonathon's eyes are dark and his face is red with anger. He stands up abruptly and roughly grabs my arm, pulling me up with him. Jonathon storms out of Java Jones, pulling me with him. His grip on my bicep is tightening with every step he takes.

We veer off to the side of the sidewalk and into some alley. My eyes widen and my heart starts to beat faster and faster. Jonathon spins me around and slams me against the side of the building. He presses his huge body against mine. I know there's no way to get out of this.

"Maybe you're right," he hisses. "But that little speech of yours did _nothing_ to help you." A see a malicious grin curl onto his lips. Then the back of his hand comes in contact with my face. I gasp at the impact and stagger to the side. I cradle my face in my hand. Black spots dance in my vision. That's probably the hardest he's ever hit me.

With my cheek still throbbing, Jonathon raises his knee and jabs it into my stomach. I double over and retch as I struggle to breathe. I force myself to stand upwards and look my brother straight into the eye.

"You'll never break me," I growl. Jonathon doesn't reply. Instead he grabs my arms and lifts me up, then forces me back into the wall. He lets go, and I slide to the ground. The pain is almost unbearable. I fall down completely onto the ground. Tears are fogging my vision.

I hear someone yell something, and I see a bright flash of light before everything goes dark.

 **-Superheroes-**

When I open my eyes, the first thing I notice is that I can't move. The second thing I notice is that I'm covered in glitter.

"Biscuit! You're awake!" And now the glitter makes sense. I turn my head to the side until the scene of Magnus Bane sitting in a chair next to me enters my vision. I give a weak smile and attempt to sit up. The smile on my boss' face disappears. "Let me help you, darling."

Once I'm in a comfortable position, I take in my surroundings. I'm in a plain white and grey hospital room. It's bigger than a regular room, and that's when I know Magnus paid for special treatment. I open my mouth to say something, but Magnus shushes me.

"You were in pretty bad shape when Alexander found you," he says. "Don't worry about money, either. I have it all covered."

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to remember what happened. And then it all comes rushing back to me. The fight at the club, me back talking my brother, Jonathon beating me up in the alley. A tear makes it way down my cheek.

"Who knows I'm here?" I manage to say. My voice is raspy and weak. Magnus readjusts himself before answering.

"Just me and my boyfriend." I sigh in relief.

"How did you find me?" Magnus clenches his teeth and once again moves around in his seat.

"Alexander and I were taking a walk last night. We stopped outside of Java Jones, then we went inside for a few minutes. We then continued our walk down the street. That's when I heard sobs coming from the alley. I saw a bloody figure lying there, so I told my boyfriend to call an ambulance. I then took out my phone and used the flashlight to get a better look at who was lying there. I nearly had a heart attack when I realized it was you, biscuit." He pauses, steadying his tone. Then his voice becomes low and bold. "What the hell happened?"

Just then, the door to the hospital room opens. I crane my neck to see who's there. The tall and handsome figure of Alec Lightwood greets me. Alec immediately notices I'm awake. He grabs a chair from the side of the room and pulls it up next to Magnus.

"Look, Clary," he starts.

"Biscuit," Magnus coughs. Alec shoots him a glare before turning back to me.

"I need you to tell me exactly what went down last night." I start shaking my head and my breathing turns panicked. "Hey, hey. Calm down. The information never has to leave this room." But I can't tell anyone. I need to tell someone that knows.

"Where's Izzy?" I whisper. Alec doesn't seem surprised by my request.

"She's at her apartment right now. Do you want me to call her?"

I nod, and Alec immediately leaves the room. I lean back and try to pull myself together. It's never been this bad. Usually just a couple slaps and maybe a push. But something happened. Jonathon is a lot worse now. The abuse was never this bad. But now I know he's not safe to be around at all.

"Biscuit," Magnus says softly. I keep my eyes closed but turn my head slightly toward him. "Does this have anything to do with your family?"

Magnus knows a little about my family issues. He knows that my mother and father don't pay attention to me and aren't willing to support me in any way. That's one of the reason I got the job at Pandemonium so young. I told him a little about my brother. Nothing about abuse, just that he absolutely hates me and thinks I'm scum.

My boss takes my silence as a yes. "Who was it?" he asks, anger apparent in his tone.

"Jonathon," I whisper. I finally open my eyes to see Magnus sitting there with his head in his hands. This is one of the times where he isn't flamboyant or energetic. He looks solemn and worried. And seeing Magnus Bane like this breaks my heart.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" he asks, waving his hand around. All I can do is sit there. I really have no good explanation. "I could have helped you, Clarissa. I could have given you higher wages. Or a place to stay. Or-"

"I could have never done that," I exclaim. "It was never this bad." The look on Magnus' face tells me that he doesn't believe me. "Really. I swear. And now that I know my brother can and will put me in the hospital, I'm not going back to that hell hole I call a home."

Alec comes back into the room, and this time he's not alone. Izzy has burst in behind him. I take a moment to see how similar the two look. But my thoughts are cut off by a sob from Izzy.

"Oh my God, Clary!" she exclaims. She takes a couple steps toward the hospital bed. "Are you okay?" I start to answer, but she keeps talking. "What happened? How bad is it? Where were you last night? How-"

"I'm feeling a lot better, Izzy," I say with a small smile. A look of relief washes over her features. Then falls into the chair set next to Magnus. I hear Alec grumbling something about stealing his seat, but his sister doesn't seem to notice. Or care.

Alec clears his throat. "Are you going to tell us what happened now?" His tone seems rougher than what it was earlier. I turn my gaze to him and nod.

"After Jace beat Sebastian up, I ran out of the club. I walked to Java Jones. It was open because there was some kind of late night poetry reading thing. But anyway, earlier that day I got a text from my brother, Jonathon." I hear Izzy take a sharp intake of breath. "Somehow he found out my number and he told me to come home. So I called him and told him I was at work. But it was a lie, because at the time I was still at Izzy's apartment with Jace. So Jon showed up at Java Jones, really mad because I lied to him."

"How did he find you?" Izzy asks. I shrug.

"I have no idea.

"Anyway, he started saying the usual. 'Clary, you're worthless. Clary, you're a dirty slut.'" I wince. Even though I know they aren't true, the words still get to me. "Since we were in a public place, I decided to talk back. But he dragged me out of the coffee shop and beat me up in a nearby alley."

I look at the three faces surrounding me. Magnus looks furious, Izzy looks horrified, and Alec looks grim.

"What's your brother's full name, Clary?" Magnus asks. "That way Alec can put him on the police department's radar." Oh, right. Alec is a detective. I remember Izzy telling me that at some point.

"Jonathon Morgenstern," I say.

Alec's eyes widen and he stands up abruptly. I look at him, confused by his reaction.

"He's your brother?" he asks. This is probably the most emotion I've ever seen expressed by Alec Lightwood. But then his words his me. I furrow my brows further and sit up a little straighter.

"You know him?" I exclaim.

Instead of answering, Alec just takes his phone back out of his pocket and quickly mumbles, "I have to make a call." Then he rushes out of the room, averting his eyes from mine. I keep my gaze locked on him until the heavy door shuts completely. Then I snap my head and look at Izzy and Magnus, who look just as confused as I am.

"What the hell was that?" Izzy finally says. She turns away so she's facing me instead of the door. "How does he know your brother?"

I try to think. Why would Alec Lightwood know my brother, who lives in a different part of the city and attends college?

"I'm not sure," I say. "I mean, he does have quite a record. Maybe Alec arrested him or something." Magnus shakes his head.

"Alexander doesn't work with things like that," he says, lacing his hands together.

I throw my hands in the air, and almost yelp at the sudden movement. Izzy notices my pained expression and takes my hand.

"Be careful, Biscuit," Magnus says. "You have a few bruised ribs and a few small fractures in your spine. Take it easy for the next few weeks." I nod my head, silently cursing, knowing that I'll be out of work for a while.

We sit in silence, waiting. I'm not exactly sure what we're waiting for, but the atmosphere is definitely tense and expectant.

About fifteen minutes later, the heavy door to my hospital room opens with a bang. I jump and look up, expecting to see Alec. My eyes widen when I recognize the golden man who stands there in the doorway, looking absolutely livid.

Izzy immediately stands up and moves to stand against the wall. Jace's eyes lock with mine. His eyes are darker than their usual golden color. He almost seems to collapse in the seat next to my bed.

"Your brother did this to you?" he says. His tone is soft, not really matching how he looks right now. I cringe, embarrassed that he knows about my problems now. I hear Jace curse under his breath. Then he looks up at Alec, Magnus, and Izzy. "Do you guys mind?" All three of them shake their head and exit the room.

"Jace, I'm sorry-" I start, but the shaking of his head makes me trail off.

"I should be the one apologizing," he says with a sigh. "I just got so mad when I saw Sebastian with you. I never meant to scare you." I smile softly. At an act of boldness, I reach my hand out from under the sheets and take his hand into my own. It's almost ridiculous how tiny mine is compared to his.

"It was nothing you did," I explain. "I wasn't scared of you. More of the image in front of me. It kind of... triggered memories."

Jace's gaze is on our interlocked hands. I give a small squeeze, and his eyes shoot up to look in mine.

"So this abuse," he swallows. "It's been happening for a while?" I avert my eyes, embarrassed. Jace reaches his hand out and tilts my chin up so I'm looking at him. I notice how close he is now.

"You don't need to be ashamed." Jace's small smile disappears. "Believe it or not, I kind of know what you're going through."

I feel a small sting in my heart as I realize what Jace just said. "You-you were abused, too?"

Jace nods. "My father isn't the nicest person in the world." I laugh slightly, and that brings a small smile to his face.

"He kind of ruined my life," he continues. The brief show of joy is now gone. "I went to college for a couple years but I dropped out. I didn't want a real job, so I decided underground fight clubs were a good way to make my living." He looks back up at me. Then he smirks.

"What?" I ask. He just chuckles and shakes his head.

"I would think you would be more surprised then that." I shrug and put on a smirk of my own.

"It makes sense, actually. When you beat Sebastian up, it looked liked you knew what you were doing."

Jace clears his throat and pulls his chair up closer to the bed. I now have to crane my neck to look him in the eye. He starts to say something, but at that moment the door opens and Izzy, Alec, and Magnus walk into the room. All three of them are bickering about something. When they're all in front of us, each of them at the same time turn to us.

"Clary!" they all say at the same time. I raise an eyebrow, waiting to hear about it.

Magnus speaks first. "Tell Isabelle that that the capital of Wyoming is Columbus," he says. Izzy glares at him.

"No, you idiot! It's Boise! Right Clary?" I give each of them exasperated looks.

"Guys, the capital of Wyoming is Cheyenne."

"HA!" Alec shouts. Izzy and Magnus both grumble as they pull out their wallets.

Jace and I lock eyes and give each other knowing looks. Then we both burst out laughing.

After a few moments of all three of the adults in front of us glaring at us, we finally cut off our laughter.

"Okay, we have one more thing to discuss," Magnus says. I cock my head to the side and try to think of what he's talking about. "Living situations. Clary can't go back to her apartment. It's not safe."

"She can live with Izzy," Alec says immediately. "Great. We have it all figured out. Let's go."

"Hold it!" Izzy says loudly, holding up a perfectly manicured hand. "That's not going to work." I feel my heart drop. Izzy sees my reaction and she hurriedly says, "Oh honey, it has nothing to do with you! It's just I have some boring designing convention in Berlin next week, and I'm not going to be able to keep you company."

I nod, relieved that it wasn't the concept of me living with her that was the problem. I mean, I was at her penthouse a lot since I've met her.

"Sorry, Biscuit, but Alexander and I aren't capable of letting you live with us, either," Magnus says with a pained expression. "They'll be no one home to look after you. Even after you get released from the hospital, you'll need someone to look after you."

I sigh. I guess I'll have to go home anyway.

But that's when Jace speaks up.

"She can live with me."

 **A/N: I have a lot to say, so let's get 'er done.**

 **I wrote a longer chapter. Yay. That's good.**

 **I hope you guys read the author's note at the top. Bc Clary will be living with Jace now. If you don't like it, I don't care. #DealWithIt**

 **ALSO OMFG I CANNOT BELIEVE WE'RE ALREADY AT 100 REVIEWS! THE SQUIRRELS CALLED THEY WANT THEIR NUTS BACK.**

 **As a thank you for the awesome support on this story, I give you a choice: Do you guys want me to start The Bay Window? Review and tell me! Here's the thing. If I start that story, this story will be updated less frequently. And chapters might be shorter. And the quality might go down a smidgen (heh I like that word) bc I'll be focused on two stories. But let me know. PLEASE.**

 **I love you guys so fucking much. Literally all of you are pure royalty to me.**

 **Even if you're totally weird, I honestly don't give a damn. Bc I am too. GO TEAM WEIRD!**

 **Seriously, thank you so much. And let me know about The Bay Window!**

 **-SneekAttack101**

 **PS. Ha. I still have you here. ;)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

 _This story is inspired by the song Superheroes by The Script_

* * *

Jace

It was spontaneous. I didn't think it through. But seeing Clary in the hospital stirred something up inside of me. I still can't believe that she was being abused. Her of all people! But even if someone is going through something tough, I never invite people to live with me.

But here I am, sitting in the waiting room of the hospital, waiting for Clary so I can bring her to my apartment.

It's been about a week since Clary was submitted. In that time, I've been doing everything I can to make as much money as possible so I can spend time with her. I've also stopped by every morning to talk with her. We knew each other before, but now I really think like we're getting to be good friends.

I haven't opened up a lot about my past. She hasn't told me much more, either. But we're still able to have lengthy conversations that somehow always seem too short.

As I sit and wait for a nurse to bring Clary out, I start to have second thoughts about this arrangement. I mean, isn't it kind of inappropriate for me, a twenty one year old man, to invite an eighteen year old bartender to live with him?

But as soon as that thought appears, I immediately push it away. Clary and I are _friends_. And besides, the age gap isn't that big, so if we did become something more...

"Jace Wayland?" I hear a nasally voice call. I look up to see a tall and skinny nurse standing with Clary. She smiles slightly, and I smile back, but she doesn't look that good at the moment.

"Make sure she takes her medication twice a day," the nurse instructs. She rips a piece of paper and hands it to me. "Keep her off her feet as much as possible. Make sure she keeps that brace on all 24/7 for five days. Then she only has to wear it until her next appointment." She points to the note in my hands. "Everything you need to know is on there."

I quickly thank the nurse before she walks away. Then I turn my attention to Clary.

"You look tired as fuck," my brain decides to say. Since when is telling a girl she looks tired gotten me any brownie points?

Instead of getting mad, the redhead just laughs. "Yeah, I feel like shit." She then knocks against her stomach. I hear a sound similar to someone knocking on a door. "And this brace is really uncomfortable."

I place my hand on Clary's shoulder and lead her out of the front doors of the hospital. When we step outside, I notice she's shivering. She's only wearing yoga pants and a light t-shirt. And it's kind of chilly today. So being the gentleman that I am, I take off the sweatshirt I'm wearing and hand it to her. She gives me a grateful smile.

Clary's long, red hair whips around her face. I take a moment to appreciate how sexy she looks even though she just got out of the hospital. Then I pull my gaze away from her and hail a cab.

The ride to my apartment is filled with Clary making small talk with the cab driver as I sit there being antisocial. I hate talking with complete strangers, no matter who they are. I'm terrible at making conversation. That's one of the reasons I like Clary so much. She's the one person who I can easily talk to. Besides Izzy and Alec, of course.

When we pull up in front of my apartment building, I fly out of the cab as fast as I can. I walk to the other side of the car and help Clary out. I don't miss the slight wince that appears on her face. I also notice that she's trying to hide her discomfort.

I don't address her pain. I mean, what do I say? This is the first time I've ever really had to take care of someone. And I've never really taken care of any girls before. I'm not proud of it, but it is true that I've never had a real relationship. Just drunken one night stands to help me forget about all the shit in my life.

Clary yawns. "If you don't mind, I'm kind of tired," she says. I smile and start to walk.

"No problem," I say.

We head inside the building and I we walk to the elevator. The ride up to the third floor is completely silent. When the elevator dings and the doors open, we walk down the hallway until we stop in front of my door. I unlock the door and open it, then let Clary step inside.

"I know it isn't much," I say, rubbing the back of my neck. Clary turns around, and I see she has a huge smile on her face.

"I love it!" she squeals. I smirk when she stumbles as she turns back around.

"Watch out," I chuckle. I put an arm around her shoulder and lead her toward my room. When I open the door, I feel Clary tense.

"Um..." she starts, but then trails off.

I awkwardly walk over to the bed and pull the covers down. Clary hesitates, but her exhaustion seems to win over because she practically jumps into the bed.

"I'll most likely be in the apartment, but I'll leave my phone number on the table just in case," I say. Then I reach out and pull the sheets over Clary's body. I linger for a little, standing above her and looking into her eyes. "If you need anything, just holler," I whisper.

I see her blush and I smirk to myself, happy I can do that to her. Then I snap back up and slowly exit the room. I carefully close the door behind me.

I immediately write out my phone number and tape it to the table. Then just in case, I write it out once more and put it on the fridge. It takes me a while to find a magnet, since I literally have nothing decorative in my apartment.

While I'm at the fridge, I open it and grab a beer. I drop heavily onto the couch and take a long swig from the bottle. I've been completely sober since Clary's been in the hospital. The familiar taste of alcohol calms my nerves. I stretch out on the couch and take a deep breath.

My phone buzzes in my pocket.

"Damn it," I mutter. I never get to relax. I sit back up and angrily grab my phone from my pocket. I read the message on the screen.

 _Unknown:_ _We've got a code five. Big money. Come fast._

I stare at the text. Code five? I've never been involved in a code five before. That means that someone showed up and requested to fight me specifically. And I have a pretty good idea who the guy is.

I turn my head and stare long and hard at the closed bedroom door. I picture Clary laying in my bed, sweet and innocent, used as a personnel punching bag by her brother. A burning sensation ignites in the pit of my stomach. I clench my teeth and my hand turn into fists.

I roughly set my half finished beer bottle down and jump up. I grab my leather jacket hanging on the door and run out of my apartment.

 **-Superheroes-**

The atmosphere of the club is dark and damp. I take in the familiar scent of alcohol and sawdust. I glance to my right and see the cement wall covered in circles. Some guy started calling this place The Circle, and I guess it kind of stuck.

The Circle is basically the basement of some shut down plant on the edge of Manhattan. It's just a big room made of cement, with a red circle in the middle of the room. That's the arena.

People are gathered around the center of the room. I can't see or hear the two people in the arena, but the shouts of the crowd make up for the lack of view. I make my way towards the crowd in the room, craning my neck and looking for my cousin.

"Hey, Jace," I hear a deep voice say from behind me. "You got my message." I turn around to see my cousin, William Herondale, standing there with a huge ass grin on his face' cigarette between his teeth.

I grin and embrace my cousin, slapping him on his back a couple of times.

"Will. It's good to see you," I say, taking a step back to look at him. I haven't seen him in a couple of months, and he's changed since the last time we met. His black hair is shorter and his blue eyes seem to sparkle more. He's still only a little bit taller than me, but he looks buffer and more fit. Will's skin is also tanner, giving him the appearance of some California surfer dude.

"Heard you're making big money," he says, taking a drag of his cigarette. He takes the carton out of his pocket and offers one to me, but I refuse.

"Yeah, this has become more than a past time," I joke. Will laughs gruffly. I look him over once more.

"What's wrong, cuz?" he asks. I smirk.

"You're different from the last time I say you," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. "What's up?"

An impossibly large grin graces Will's face. "I met a girl in England," he laughs. My eyes widen.

"Seriously? How'd _you_ get a girlfriend?" I say sarcastically. Will punches my arm, not as light as he would if he was joking.

"Not just a girlfriend. We're engaged." I scoff and try to look for any signs of a joke on my cousin's face. When I fail to, I shake my head and chuckle.

"A little quick, don't you think, William?" I ask. I use his full name to piss him off. It appears I did so, apparent by the scowl on his face.

"Shut up, Wayland," he grumbles. "It's not like you've got a girl in your life."

An image of Clary appears in my mind. Her at Pandemonium, her hanging out with Izzy, her in the coffee shop, her in the hospital.

Will's face goes slack and his eyes widen. "No way. You have a girlfriend?!"

I glare at my cousin. "No, I don't," I hiss. Will smirks and starts to make some sort of smart ass comment, but luckily someone interrupts our conversation.

Or in this case, not so luckily.

"Well, well, well," I hear a smooth voice say. I turn to see Joanthon Morgenstern, standing there with a smirk on his face. I growl and launch myself at him, but Will reacts fast and grabs my arms. "I didn't think you would show. Too involved with your daddy issues and all." I hear Will's breath harden and his grip on me loosens. But I don't take the opportunity to attack him. Instead I step out of my cousin's grasp and walk right up to Jonathon; close enough where his breath is fanning my face.

"Let's take this to the arena and settle this like men," I growl, trying to keep my voice steady.

The crowd parts as we make our way to the circle in the center of the room. I hear people start to make bets and exchanging money back and forth. I enter the red ring and dig in my pockets. I take out the wad of bills I have concealed. Jonathon also pays up.

The woman overseeing the fight grabs the money from us. I notice the seductive look she gives me, but I don't react. My eyes are boring in on my opponent.

"Well, boys," she purrs. "You know the rules. You win, you get the sum of money."

"How much?" I hear someone yell from the crowd.

"Eight-hundred," she says, holding the bills up high. The people around us cheer.

Our eyes are still interlocked. I keep my expression stony and cold. My fists are clenched, itching to punch this bastard in the face.

And then the fight starts.

I start on defence. Jonathon lunges at me, and I side step. But his fist still grazes my ear. I take advantage of his being off balance, and hit him hard in the face. He stumbles back, but he's not down yet.

We circle each other, waiting for the other to make the next move. I decide that if he's not going to go, I should. I step forward and swing, but he ducks. Then he runs forward and hits me again; this time it's hard in the stomach. I heave forward, trying to catch my breath. But before I can finish, I get punched in the face.

I stagger backwards and try to put distance between me and him. But he just walks forward. Jonathon punches me again. Then he kicks me in the knee, causing me to collapse. I try to get up, but the kicks and blows that continue to come cause me to stay in place.

"Aw, can't get up, pretty boy?" Jonathon laughs, stopping for a second. I try to jump up, but Jonathon's foot holds me down. "Get up and fight!"

 _"Get up, boy!" my father yells. I hold in my cries of pain knowing if I show any signs of weakness I'll get beat more. I struggle to stand up from my spot on the floor. My face is covered in blood from the beer bottle that was smashed over my head. I can barely breathe from all the hits I've received to my stomach. And my eye is already swollen shut from the door that hit my face._

 _"You're weak," my father growls, grabbing the front up my shirt and yanking him towards him. I'm practically in the air, since he's holding me up to his eye level. And I'm only thirteen; shorter than my ex-soldier father._

 _"Behave like a man!" he bellows, throwing me back onto the floor._

 _"Get up!" he yells again. "Get up!"_

"Get up! Jace, get up!"

I groan and roll to my side. My vision is fuzzy, so I blink a few times. When the world comes back into focus, I see that The Circle is completely empty. Except for my cousin who's kneeling on the floor, blowing smoke right into my face. I cough and fan the air in front of me.

"Holy shit. I thought you were dead!" Will exclaims, jumping to his feet. I groan when I feel the pain in my sides. I open my mouth to talk, but immediately close it when the pain sets in.

I sit there for a while, breathing in and out, trying to numb the pain. At some point Will hands me pills, and I take them without hesitation.

When I'm finally feeling better, I sit all the way up and slowly stand to my feet.

"What time is it?" I groan. Will takes his phone out of his jacket pocket and checks the time.

"5:38," he reads. My eyes bug out.

"Shit," I mumble. Who knows how long Clary's been in the apartment alone? I walk as fast as I can towards the exit of the complex.

"Jace!" Will calls. I don't turn around. I just continue to walk. "Where're you going?"

"Home," I say. I throw open the heavy door and run up the flight of stairs. My bruises burn with every step I take, but I honestly don't care. I've had much worse.

"Jace!" my cousin yells again. This time I ignore him. "Jace! I can give you a ride!" This time I turn around and look at him. A second later he appears at the top of the stairs. He has a smirk on his face and keys in his hand.

"Yeah, you couldn't live without me," he crows. I just glare at him and grab the keys from his hand.

"Shut up. I'm driving."

 **-Superheroes-**

Clary

I freak out for a second when I wake up and I realize I'm not in the hospital. Then the memory of Jace bringing me back to his apartment enter my brain. I sigh and close my eyes again. But unfortunately I can't find sleep again.

I slip out of bed and shiver when the cold air hits me. I notice I'm still wearing Jace's sweatshirt. I pull it tighter around me.

I walk out of the room and around the small apartment. I don't find Jace anywhere. I go into the kitchen and straight to the fridge. I haven't eaten anything today, so I hope that he has his fridge stocked.

As I open the door to the fridge, I notice that a phone number is stuck on there. I hesitate, wondering if I should call him, but decide it's not worth it to interrupt whatever he's doing.

I look through the contents of the fridge. Not seeing anything I want in the moment, my eyes trail downwards. And that's when I see the stock of beers. Without even thinking about what I'm doing, I grab one and then close the fridge door. I immediately find a bottle opener on the counter.

I sit down at the small table and take a sip of my drink. I look around the apartment until my gaze locks on the digital clock on the microwave. My eyes widen when I notice the time. 5:45 P.M! I went to sleep at around eleven in the morning! Was I really out for that long?

I continue to down the contents of my beer bottle. Slowly of course, since this is only my second time having alcohol.

All of a sudden, the apartment door bangs open. Startled, I fall out my chair and onto the floor. I scramble to my feet and stare at the scene in the doorway.

A really tall and buff guy with black hair and tan skin is standing on the other side of the door, and he's basically carrying Jace. Jace who's wearing torn clothes and has blood all over his face.

"Who are you?" the tall guy asks. I gulp, because he's really intimidating. I try to answer, but no words come out of my mouth.

"Calm down, Will," Jace groans. I'm surprised to hear his voice, because he looks like he's dead at the moment. "She's staying with me."

The man, Will, looks at me and I nod vigorously. His expression changes into a grin as he extends his hand.

"I'm William Herondale," he says. "Jace's cousin. You can call me Will." I shake his hand and respond with a 'Nice to meet you. My name's Clary.'

Will deposits Jace onto the couch. I turn to face him and take in his appearance once more. "What the hell happened to you?" I ask.

"I got into a fight," he says simply. I cross my arms and wait for him to respond, but when he doesn't elaborate I huff in annoyance and roll my eyes. I'm not sure if he notices my exasperated state, but his cousin certainly does. Will gives a low whistle and looks from me to Jace.

"I don't know where you got this one, but she's a keeper." My face turns red and Jace's eyes widen.

"We're not together," we both say at the same time. Will looks back and forth for a couple seconds before shrugging his shoulders and reaching in his pocket, pulling out a cigarette.

Hoping to escape the awkward atmosphere, I hurry into the kitchen and search for a towel of some sort. When I find one, I hold it under cold water until it's soaked. Then I walk back into the living room. I hand Jace the wet rag. He gives me a grateful smile and then proceeds to start cleaning his face.

"We're ordering takeout," Will announces after a few minutes of silence. He reaches for some menus on the coffee table, flops down on the other small couch in the room, and starts to flip through the menus. Jace doesn't seem bothered by the fact that his cousin is smoking in his living room. I hope Jace doesn't smoke, too.

I glance at Jace who's laying on the couch with his arms behind his head. He's back to looking like an angel now that the blood and dirt is off of his face. He looks so peaceful. All of the worry and stress is wiped off of his face. Jace is relaxed; laying there with his eyes closed and a small smile playing on his lips.

I break my gaze away from the golden haired man. I discreetly try to walk backwards towards the table. I quietly snatch my empty beer bottle and hold it behind my back. I quickly turn around and hold the evidence against my chest. I try to find a trashcan, but unluckily for me I don't see one anywhere.

"What do you have in your hand?" I hear Jace say. I turn around and try to put the bottle behind my back. All I can see is Jace's head. The rest of his body is hidden behind the couch.

"Um... nothing?" I try. Jace cocks an eyebrow and sits up more on the couch.

"Wrong answer," he says. "What do you have in your hand?"

I guiltily take the beer bottle out from behind my back. Jace's expression instantly turns to rage.

"You were drinking?" he practically shouts. I roll my eyes and wave the empty bottle around as I talk:

"Why do you care?" I retort. "You were the one who gave me my first drink!"

Out of the corner of my eye I see Will staring at us. Probably wants to watch the drama. I turn my gaze and glare at him. He scrambles to pick up the menus and goes back to reading through them.

"I _care_ because something could've happened!" Jace says, throwing his hands in the air. "You're eight-teen. Your body isn't exactly ready for alcohol. And you're lightweight, Clary. I would be fine if I was here, too, but I wasn't. I care about you, Clary. And besides, if something would've happened while I out somewhere, Izzy would've killed me."

I'm stunned by Jace's little speech. But only a few words stand out to me. _I care about you._

"Dude," Will says loudly, breaking me out of my thoughts. "She's eight-teen? Isn't that too young for you?"

"For the last time," I growl. "We are _not_ together!"

 **A/N: Jamie Campbell Bower is in a Harry Potter movie. And I thought I couldn't love him any more.**

 **Sooooooo... Long chapter! So much has happened! So much is going to happen! I'm really excited for the next chapter!**

 **I apologize to the people who wanted minimal characters in this story. But I had to include Will. But one more isn't bad, right?**

 **Seriously guys. I want feedback. I want you to tell me what you liked. What you disliked. What you want to happen. I'm open to all ideas, since this story isn't tightly strung. It's very loose, and I honestly love having it this way.**

 **Rn I'm listening to Killer Queen by Queen. Great song.**

 **And I'm sick. So yeah.**

 **Thank you all for reviewing. I still can't believe this story already has over one hundred reviews! That's crazy!**

 **Oh, and most of you wanted me to stick with Superheroes for now. So I'll wait until later to start my other story.**

 **-SneekAttack101**

 **P.S Do any of you read Agatha Christie? If you do, please tell me! I want to make sure I'm not the only one!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except the plot. The plot is mine. Don't take my plot. I'm a greedy little bastard.**

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 _This story is inspired by the song Superheroes by The Script._

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Clary

We end up ordering pizza for dinner. Will leaves almost immediately after we eat. He got a text from his girlfriend and had to go. I really like Jace's cousin. He's very outgoing and joking; almost nothing like Jace. But I did notice that the two boys share the same cocky attitude.

Jace and I decide to watch a few episodes of Criminal Minds before we go to bed. It's pretty early, only around nine thirty, but even after sleeping all day I'm exhausted. Plus Jace looks like he could really use some rest.

I fight with Jace, telling him he can have the bed. He insists that I take it, but I'm stubborn. It's a talent. He finally gives up after I threaten to sleep on the floor if he takes the couch. So Jace walks into his bedroom and closes the door behind him.

In the middle of dinner Izzy stopped by with some of my stuff. I gave her permission to climb into my room from the fire escape. She returned with a huge bag filled with clean clothes, my phone, my sketchbooks (I now had three since Magnus bought me a new one when I was in the hospital), and toiletries. I also gave her the key to the cabinet in my room. Alec put my money in a secure box and brought it to the police station to be kept in a vault.

I walk over to the pile of stuff in the corner of the living room. I pull out my sketchbook and flop back on the couch. When I was in the hospital, I was able to get some stuff done for my portfolio. I drew the view of the city from Izzy's apartment, Simon playing the violin in the park at night, and Jace. I drew a lot of Jace. I redid the rough sketch of him sitting alone at the club, and I also drew him standing on a cliff with the sunset behind him, a pair of angel wings on his back. I drew it the night he volunteered to take me in.

I close my eyes and try to think of inspiration. I anxiously tap my pencil against the paper trying to think of something. After a while my tapping slows and my eyes start to shut. I lean back and close my eyes completely, not even bothering to put my sketchbook away. And that's when I drift off to sleep.

 **-Superheroes-**

The sound of grunts and low shouts wakes me up. I shoot upright and almost fall off the couch. I listen, seeing if I just imagined the noises. But a moment later, I hear a loud grunt.

I get up and quietly walk towards Jace's room. As I get closer, I notice it gets louder. The noises are coming from Jace's room.

"Jace?" I say quietly and rap on his door. He doesn't answer. I listen again, and I hear another strangled shout.

I make the decision to go in. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for whatever lays on the other side of the door. I grab the handle and slowly open the door. When the crack is wide enough, I slip into the room.

The first thing I see is the outline of Jace in the dark room. He's tossing and turning in his bed, causing the covers to get all messed up. He keeps making weird noises. Grunts that almost sound like whimpers, and words I can't decipher. I immediately know what's happening: nightmare.

"Jace!" I say, not bothering to keep my voice low. The only response I get is him rolling over once again. I notice he's drenched in sweat and his face is contorted into an expression of pain. "Jace!" I say again. This time he shoots up in bed.

I back up as the man catches his breath. Jace's breathing slows. He wipes his face with his hand. Then he looks up and seems to notice me for the first time.

"Clary?" he says. I take a step closer to him.

"Are you okay?" I ask. Jace takes a shaky breath before nodding.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." But he doesn't sound fine. "Just a-" his voice catches. "Nightmare," he finished with a grimace. He looks back up at me. "I'm sorry."

I walk all the way over to the bed and sit down on the edge. "Don't be sorry," I say softly. "It's completely fine." I reach out and touch his shoulder. That's when I realize the man is shirtless. But right now I couldn't care less.

"I must have woken you up," he says, leaning towards me a little bit. "I'm sorry. I'm-"

I put a finger on his lip, effectively shutting him up. "Jace, it's fine. But the real question is, are you fine? Will you be able to go back to sleep?"

Instead of responding, Jace takes his strong arms and wraps them around my waist. Then he lays back down on the bed, pulling me down with him. I'm laying down right beside him. Jace pulls me into his bare chest, and I find myself melting into his embrace. He buries his face into my hair. I let out a sigh of content.

Soon Jace's breathing becomes steady and even. I try to stay awake as long as possible, wanting to relish the feeling of Jace's touch as long as I can. But soon my exhaustion wins out, because I find myself falling asleep. But the smile on my face never ceases.

 **-Superheroes-**

Jace

The smell of strawberries engulfs my senses. I can feel something small and warms pressed against my chest. I pull whatever it is closer into me, loving the way it feels. I adjust my head, and suddenly my face is buried in more hair.

Wait, what?

My eyes snap open, and that's when I realize the small and warm thing I'm spooning is a body. More specifically, Clary's body. She's still asleep. There's a small smile on her lips. And seeing her makes me smile too.

I contemplate jumping away from her, knowing that this isn't exactly right. But that's the thing. It _is_ right. Her body fits against mine perfectly. My mind is clear and fresh for the first time in months.

I barely remember exactly what happened last night. All I remember is parts of the nightmare, and then Clary standing there. Last night she had no makeup on and she wasn't wearing anything special. Just a t-shirt and shorts. But she looked more beautiful than I've ever seen her look before.

I glance back down at the girl laying against me. And then that's when I notice how short her shorts are. And how her shirt has ridden up slightly, revealing skin of her stomach. And I can make out the slight curves she has. And I can see she's not wearing a bra.

I feel a twitch in my lower area. I glance down and sure enough... damn it.

I don't want to, but I release Clary from my grasp. Then I stretch, and start walking towards my bathroom to take care of this problem.

 **-Superheroes-**

Clary

I'm cold. Like, really cold. I roll over and search for some kind of blanket to cover me, but I can't find anything. Then I open my eyes and sit up, furrowing my brows. I could've sworn I fell asleep on the couch last night. But then I remember...

I turn my head, disappointed that Jace is gone. But I can hear the shower going, so at least he's still in the apartment.

I hug my arms to my chest and shiver. I look around the room for something to cover me. The only thing is the bedsheet, but that's not very practical. I'm not sure Izzy brought me any sweatshirts. So I hop out of the bed and walk towards Jace's closet. I hesitantly open it, hoping that he won't mind. I grab the first sweatshirt I see, one that has Alcinate High on the front, and the number 00 and Wayland on the back. My guess is some part of a uniform.

I shuffle out of the room and into the kitchen. Jace is still in the shower, so I decide to make both of us breakfast. I search through the fridge until I find eggs and cheese. Then I open and close a dozen cabinets trying to find spices. Which was a hard task, as I'm only five feet tall and the cabinets are pretty high. I find a pan easily. I bring everything over to the stove and get to work.

Halfway through cooking the eggs, I hear the bathroom door creak open. I keep my eyes trained on the food, not wanting Jace to see the blush that has already formed on my cheeks. I can sense when Jace enters the kitchen.

I decide to be brave and turn around to face him. He's standing at the entrance of the kitchen. To my surprise he has a little color on his cheeks too. His eyes are a little wider than usual, and he looks glued to the spot.

Jace finally clears his throat. "Morning," he says gruffly.

"Good morning," I reply. Then I quickly turn back around and focus on what I'm making.

I hear Jace walk over to me. At the last moment he moves to the side. Now he's leaning against the cabinets and looking at the contents on the stove.

"Is that mine?" he asks. I look up at him, confused for a second, but then I remember what I'm wearing.

"Oh!" I exclaim a little loudly. "Yeah. Sorry. I got kind of cold. I can take it off if you want-"

"No," Jace says firmly. He reaches his hand up and rubs the back of his neck. "I mean, I don't mind. You can have it if you want."

That's the end of the conversation. Jace exits the kitchen to go finish getting ready. I put the final touches on the fried eggs and then quickly set the table.

We eat in silence. Even though we were the closest we've ever been last night, there seems to be some kind of rift between us now. Some sort of awkward understanding that neither of us want to talk about.

Jace finishes before me and then starts on the dishes. I just continue to eat my breakfast.

When the kitchen is completely cleaned up, Jace gently pulls me over to the couch. I sit down and he takes a seat next to me. We stare into each other's eyes for a few minutes, trying to read the emotion the other is feeling.

"I guess you want to know what happened last night," he says softly. I grab his hand and put on a serious expression.

"Jace," I say in a comforting tone. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Jace shakes his head. "But I _want_ to talk about. I _want_ you to know." My heart flutters in my chest. "I need to talk about it with someone."

"Then talk."

A surprised expression appears on his face. I keep my eyes on him, letting him know that I'm there for him. And then Jace starts to tell me his story:

"My dad was an honorable man. He used to be lively. My mom and him got married really young because my mom became pregnant. With me. But then life got hard, and my dad decided to join the armed forces to help support us. He was deployed for a couple years, and when he came back he was... different." Jace pauses. His eyes are dark and his voice is gruff. "The first time he hit my mom I was six. I still remember that day. I was absolutely terrified at what my father had become.

He started drinking. He had the same routine every night. Got home from work, ignored my mother and I, went out to a bar, came back and beat the crap out of my mom and I."

I move closer to him. But Jace is staring blankly ahead. He doesn't register my movements.

"The beatings got worse and more constant. My mom had to quit her job and I had to stop going to school. He taught me that love didn't exist-" Jace's voice cracked. "But my mom said differently. That love is the one thing that keeps humanity sane. That you can't live without love."

Jace pauses for a few minutes. He takes deep breaths as I watch him with tears in my eyes. How could such a strong man be so broken?

"Then on my fifteenth birthday-" he stops. I see tears forming in his eyes. When he continues, his voice is barely a whisper. "He killed her. He killed my mother."

My mouth opens in shock, and the tears in my eyes start to freely flow.

"That was it," Jace says with a cold chuckle. "I got the hell out of there. Lived on the streets for a while until a lawyer came with my mother's will. She left everything to me. Nothing to that bastard. Then I started the underground fighting. It was my own personnel therapy. It was my-"

"Escape," I finish with a whisper.

"Yeah. An escape," Jace repeats.

He then turns to look at me. A look of shock appears on his face and then he pulls me in for a hug.

"You're so strong," I say through my tears. "You're a hero Jace." He doesn't respond. He just holds me, stroking my hair. And he keeps me in his arms far after my tears and gone. We're both comforting each other, and we're both comforting ourselves with the other's presence. We never say anything. Because in some bizarre way, we don't need to. We understand.

 **A/N: Heavy on the Clace there YAH.**

 **I'm so glad that so many of you read Agatha Christie! If you haven't, you should. She's an amazing writer! Btw, my fave book my her is And Then There Were None. And my #2 is Murder in Mesopotamia.**

 **I know this chapter was a bit heavy emotionally. I hope that I did Jace justice with the way he explained his story. Don't be afraid to criticize! But be nice. Or I might burst out into tears.**

 **So I have ADHD and that results in a very short attention span and bad memory. But I really don't care. It just makes me more demigod. But anyway, you might have noticed that my stories don't always stay consistent. Something in one chapter won't match up in another. So if you notice any inconsistencies, please let me know so I can fix them. I've said this before, but my ADHD also makes my stories go kind of wack and off track. So if you feel like this story is straying too far away from what you thought it would be, also let me know.**

 **I love you guys. I wish I had the time to thank you all indivisually. But alas, it don't work that way.**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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 _This story is inspired by the song Superheroes by The Script_

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Clary

I'm walking back from Pandemonium after my late shift. There's an extra spring in my step and a huge smile on my face. I finally finished my portfolio today! And I haven't been able to keep the smile off of my face since I put the finishing touches on my water color painting.

I easily find my way back to Jace's apartment. I've been living with him for two weeks now, and I just got the clear to go back to work. Since Jace told me about his past, some sort of understanding passed between the two of us. We now only talk about the present. And we've been talking a lot. Jace is out almost the entire day most days, and that's something I don't question. All I know is that he usually comes back with more money than when he left. I worked hard on my portfolio and taking online surveys to make a little money. Honestly, living with Jace has made me the happiest I've been in a while.

When I reach the apartment complex, I fish my key out of my apartment and try to quietly walk up the steps. It's well past midnight and I've learned that Jace's neighbors aren't that nice.

I unlock the door and open it, but it creaks anyway. I slip inside the opening and shut it behind me. I let my hair down and put my phone and keys on the table next to the door. I kick off my shoes and head straight for the fridge. But something stops me in my tracks.

I hear something coming from Jace's room. A noise. But not the noise you might think. I creep closer and put my ear to the door. I'm surprised when I hear a voice and the gentle strumming of guitar from the other side of the door.

 _"When you've been fighting for it all your life, and you've been struggling to make things right, that's how a superhero learns to flyyyy."_

I stand in place, entranced by the lyrics. I put my hair behind my ear and continue to listen.

 _"She's got lions in her heart, a fire in her soul. He's got a beast in his belly that's so hard to control. Cause they've taken too much hits, taking blow by blow. Now light a match, stand back, watch them explode."_

Suddenly the tune stops. I hear heavy footsteps approaching the door, and I barely have enough time to fly backwards and behind the wall. I hear the door open, and I pretend to be searching through the fridge.

"Hey, Red," I hear Jace say softly. I pretend to be surprised as I turn to face him.

"Jace? Golly, I thought you were asleep!" Golly? _Golly?!_ I inwardly slap myself in the face. A smirk appears on Jace's lips.

"How was work?" he asks. I'm relieved that he decided to ignore what just happened.

"The usual," I reply. "Busy, busy!"

Jace snorts, and I almost join him. But instead I turn back to the fridge and pull out leftovers from dinner. Some sort of chicken parm that Jace made.

The golden man just stands there and watches me as I reheat my snack and start to eat. I awkwardly stare at the floor and try to ignore his intense gaze. I finally can't take it anymore. I look up and attempt to raise an eyebrow as I chew.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" I say with my mouthful. Jace's eyes open wider, but he recovers and shakes his head. A little too quickly.

"No!" he says in a higher pitched voice that usual. Then he clears his throat. "No," he says normally. "Everything's A-okay."

I smirk as he winces at his own embarrassing statement. I set down my fork and stand up, walking toward him.

"You sure?" I say softly. Jace starts to nod his head, but then he stops. He sighs and his shoulder's slump.

"I was just- wondering-" He pauses. "If you would sleep with me tonight?"

Genuine surprise courses through me. We've kept to our own beds since that one night. Neither of us even mentioned it. But I think about it a lot. I think about how good it felt to be in his strong arms. His breath tickling the back on my neck. His face buried into my hair.

I can't seem to speak, so I just nod my head. A look of surprise crosses his face before he shuffles forward and pulls me into an embrace. I'm not exactly sure what it's for, but I hug him back anyway. I inhale deeply. Jace smells like mint and cologne. He pulls back slightly and we walk towards his room.

I don't mind that I'm still in my bartending uniform. I just crawl into bed with Jace. Immediately he wraps his arms around my midsection and pulls me flush against his bare chest. His breath seems to slow as soon as we're comfortable.

But I'm left wide awake with one thought running through my mind: I have feelings for Jace Wayland.

 **-Superheroes-**

Jace

" _What the hell?"_ a shrill feminine voice shrieks. I snap my eyes open and sit up in one fluid motion. I'm greeted with the sight of Izzy standing in the bedroom doorway. There's a bag of food at her feet and her mouth is open wide.

"Hey, Izzy," I grumble, running a hand through my golden locks. Izzy is still staring at me. Well, not at me; at _us_. That's when I realize what the scene must look like to my friend. Clary and I caught in bed together.

I turn my head to look at Clary. She's standing on the opposite side of the bed. Her hair is messed up and her face is flushed a deep red. It looks like she's trying to appear smaller than she already is.

"Explain," Izzy demands. So I do.

"We weren't sleeping together," I say. She raises an eyebrow. "I swear! See, she's fully clothed!"

Izzy's intense gaze focuses behind me. Her expression softens when she realizes that I am, in fact, correct. But a look of doubt is still on her face.

"Okay, but why were you guys in the same bed?" she counters. I open my mouth but nothing comes out. Luckily Clary seems to have recovered, and she starts to explain.

"That's all it was," she says. "We were just sleeping. I got tired of the couch so this was the alternative."

I quickly shoot Clary an undetectable look of thanks. If she told Izzy the real reason we were in the same bed, she would have never let me live it down. Because I told her years ago that no girl could make Jace Wayland soft. But since Clary came along, I've been proven wrong.

"Well!" Izzy says while bending over to pick up her dropped bags. "I brought German food! And chocolate!"

Clary

I'm still blushing as all three of us make our way to the kitchen. I can't believe that Izzy walked in on us! It's not like we were doing anything, but it's embarrassing either way.

"Um, I'm going to shower first," I mumble. I get a quick "okay" from Jace as he admires all the cheese and sausage Izzy has laid out on the table. I retreat to the corner of the living room and grab a change of clothes plus my phone. Then I scurry to the bathroom and shut the door. I lean up against it and take deep breaths. My heart is racing and I'm slightly dizzy.

I'm still in slight shock about my realization of my feelings for Jace. I've never felt this way about a person, and I doubt he reciprocates the feelings. I get a queasy feeling in my stomach as I think of this scenario.

I place my clothes on the ground and take out my phone. I open my messaging and quickly send a text to Simon.

 _Me:_ _Can we meet at Java Jones today?_

A few moments later I get a reply:

 _Simon:_ _Sure! What's up with Jace?_

Surprised by his second statement, it takes me a couple seconds to respond.

 _Me:_ _I don't know. Why do you ask? Is something wrong?_

 _Simon:_ _It's just that he's come to my busking spot to watch me play for the last two weeks. And I've had conversations with him. And he's actually been NICE._

My brows furrow in confusion as I read his text. Is that where Jace has been going out to everyday? I know that he leaves the apartment every morning and doesn't come back until late afternoon, usually right before the time I would be leaving for work. But why has he been going to Central Park?

 _Me:_ _Sorry, Si. Have to go. See you soon._

I shut of my phone and start preparing for my shower. I jump in and blast hot water. I try my best to let the water burn away all of my emotions, but unfortunately it doesn't work like that.

I don't stay in for long. I don't want Izzy or Jace to get worried.

 _'Especially Jace'_ a little voice in my mind whispers. I promptly tell that voice to shut the hell up as I turn off the water and step out of the shower. I shiver as my feet hit the cold tower. I quickly pull on skinny jeans and a beige blousy top and spend a little extra time then I usually do getting ready. Since when do I care so much? I've only had these feelings for Jace since last night!

But a part of me knows that isn't true. I've had these feelings for a while. A week at least. It's just that I'm finally acknowledging them now. And in a way it's a relief to stop lying to myself. I tried to justify every time he made my heart flutter or made me blush. That it was just because the room was a little hot or I wasn't feeling all that good. But now I know that it's because I _like_ Jace.

"And that's all it's going to be," I whisper to myself as I brush my hair. "It's just a crush. And it'll stay that way." I pause for a second and stare into my own eyes. "Just a crush," I repeat to myself, trying to make myself believe it.

The sudden knock on the door makes me drop my hair brush.

"Clary?" I hear Jace say in a muffled voice. "Get out here before I eat all of this food! That'll do nothing for my God like looks!"

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, I'll be out in a second."

I quickly finish brushing my hair and applying my makeup. I then throw my curls back into a messy bun and step out of the bathroom. I'm greeted by a buffet of all types of cheese, sausage, beer, and chocolate. I head straight to the comfort food, taking a piece and stuffing it into my mouth.

I hear a chuckle from next to me. "Geez, Red. Are you okay?"

I whirl around and look up at Jace. I try to fight the blush that appears on my cheeks. He's standing close. Too close. His blonde hair is messed up in a perfect way, and his eyes are bright. And his shirt is off.

Good Lord, since when did I care? This is how he looks every morning!

"Sorry," I say, forgetting that I still have chocolate in my mouth. I swallow with difficulty repeating my apology. Then I head over to a cabinet and pull out a plate. I start loading food onto my plate like a civilized human being.

"So," Izzy chirps as I sit and start to eat. "I haven't seen you merry lot for a couple weeks. How's the living situation?"

Jace answers before I can. "Terrible. Clary is an awful roommate." I look up at him. My eyes are bugged out and my eyes start to tear up. Did he really mean that? Did he really think that I'm that bad to live with?

I wave of relief engulfs me as I hear him start to laugh. I hastily wipe my eyes and smile with him.

"Nah, she's great. Her teenager tendencies barely get in the way of me living comfortably."

I feel a pang of realization as I remember that Jace is three years older than me. How could I forget? Even though the age gap isn't huge, it still makes me feel uncomfortable as I remember I have a crush on this man.

"What about you, Clary? Is Jace's OCD too much to handle?" Izzy jokes. I smile and give a small laugh.

"Jace has been great. Besides shoving medicine down my throat twice a day, I love living with him." I inwardly tense as I realized I used the "L" word. But I didn't say that I loved him. I just said I loved living with him. That's not the same thing, right?

We continue our breakfast with Izzy telling us about her time in Berlin. But I'm only half listening to the stories of her travels. I'm more focused on reviewing everything that has happened this morning. And I realize I really do have it for Jace. I have it bad.

I abruptly stand up in the middle of Izzy's story about some guy in the airport. Izzy and Jace both give me strange looks.

"Simon!" I blurt out. That does nothing to help their confusion.

"What?" Jace asks.

"I'm meeting Simon for coffee. I have to go." I grab my light jacket and tie it around my waist before grabbing my phone on the table. "Sorry Izzy, I promised your boyfriend I would talk to him. I'll catch up with you later!" Technically I asked him to meet with me, but I decide to ignore the technicalities.

As I rush out the door to the apartment, I decide on my final conclusion that I came up with: If I want to stay sane, then I'll have to avoid Jace at all costs.

Simple, right?

But of course even I know that this is going to be harder than it sounds.

 **A/N: OMG PLEASE DON'T BE MAD AT ME! I know that I took forever to update, but school literally sucks ass. Plus I have other stuff going on in my life right now. I know this chapter isn't super long, but I just needed to get it out as soon as possible.**

 **What do you guys think about Clary's feelings for Jace? What about her conclusion? Tell me what you think!**

 **So I have a question for ya'll: In my next story, The Bay Window, there are two different Jace personalities that I could write with.**

 **1\. Popular Golden Boy**

 **2\. Well Known Bad Boy**

 **Tell me which one you'd rather have a story with. I'm personally leaning toward Bad Boy, just because I feel like that'll be more fun to write, but it's all up to you guys. I think. I might be biased. We'll see!  
**

 **Anyway, thank you guys so much for reading and reviewing. Can you believe we already have over 140 reviews?! That's fucking crazy! I honestly love you guys so much and I can't thank you enough for supporting this story.**

 **I'll try to update soon!**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. (I never said I was happy about it.)**

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 _This story is inspired by the song Superheroes by The Script_

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Clary

Simon sits there, motionless, staring at the space behind me. His eyes are glazed over and he hasn't blinked in quite a while.

"Simon," I say for what feels like the hundredth time. "Simon, it's not a big deal."

 _"A big deal?"_ Simon explodes. "Of course it's a big deal! Clary, you just told me you have feelings for Jace Wayland!"

I roll my eyes and avert my gaze to my untouched coffee that sits on the table in front of me. As soon as I walked into Java Jones, Simon demanded to know why I was acting so weird. And because he's my best friend, I told him. That has proved to be a big mistake.

"Why did you have to go and develop a crush on the hot older golden boy who can't stay out of a fight?" Simon cries a little too loudly. We start to get weird looks from people around the coffee shop. "Why couldn't you have met a nice and polite guy with a scholarship who volunteers at a pediatric hospital on the weekends?"

I lean back in my seat, a feeling of hurt and betrayal consuming me.

"Look, Lewis," I snap. "You talk about Jace like you know him. But _I'm_ the one who's lived with him the last two weeks. _I'm_ the one who talked to him at Pandemonium all those nights. You don't know what a nice guy he is. You know nothing about him."

Simon opens his mouth to speak, but I continue my rant.

"And I can't control my feelings. It's a crush. That's all it is, and that's all it will be."

I stand up and grab my coffee. I tighten the jacket on my waist and push my hair behind my shoulders.

"Thank you for meeting with me," I say, tears brimming in my eyes. "You were a real help."

And with that I rush out of Java Jones, having no idea where to go now.

 **-Superheroes-**

Jace

I hop out of the car and take a second to just stare at the complex in front of me. I haven't been here for a week. Usually I go twice each week to insure I have enough cash. But here I am now, not knowing who's inside waiting to try to beat me up.

I take a deep breath, readjust my leather jacket, and walk towards the entrance. It's always risky coming here during daylight hours. Most of the fights happen later, but no one passes up an early morning match if it means big money.

All I was told is to come and see what's waiting for me. No one requested to fight me, which was a huge relief. I don't need Morgenstern to come and kick my ass a second time.

I descend the stairs, and then flash my card to the guy standing in front of the door. He nods and lets me in. I'm greeted with shouts and hollers from the crowd of people gathered around the arena. I walk in as if I own the place. A few guys nod in my direction, some shoot me glares, and a couple just kind of stare in awe. I don't blame them. I have kind of a reputation here. Which I might have ruined in my fight with Clary's brother.

"Wayland!" I hear someone shout. I turn in the direction of the voice. One of my friends, Buck, is pointing to some guy next to him that I've never seen before. I smirk, and that's all he needs to announce the next match.

I walk to the arena, the crowd parting for me. I walk into the circle, roll my sleeves up, and crack my knuckles as I size up my opponent. He's big and burly. The guy has a lot of muscle, but I can tell he isn't fast. I need to go on offence.

I don't even pay attention to the amount of money that's announced. My hands are itching to start punching this guy. I need the familiarity that is beating someone up. I need to release steam.

The signal rings in my ears, and I immediately throw a punch, not giving him a chance to attack first. He dodges it and swings his fist, but I easily lean out of the way and start to attack again.

Four minutes later, my opponent is laying on the ground, groaning. I don't show any signs of celebration. I just wipe the blood and sweat from my brow and collect my money.

I start to walk towards the exit, deciding I could survive off this bundle for a little. But suddenly I'm yanked back and pulled to the floor. I quickly spring up and turn to see my opponent coming after me with a murderous look in his.

"Woah, buddy," I say, holding my hands up. "You lost. Deal with it." But my little speech does nothing to calm him down. He throws a punch that connects with my jaw. I hear a few people gasp. I slowly turn to look at him.

"Bad idea," I growl. Rage blurs my vision as I hit him. Again. And again. And again. I hit him until he's left gasping for breath on the floor, spitting up blood. My knuckles look ruined and I have blood all over my clothes. I know I have a bruise on my jaw, and I'm spitting up blood of my own from this guy's punch.

I finally stop when he starts moaning in agony. I let my fists relax at my side. The complex is completely silent. The rules of the fight club are simple. One of them is no fighting outside of the arena. And the punishment for breaking any of the rules is your opponent doing whatever they want.

I spit on him and turn, walking out of the complex without looking back.

I jump into the car I rented and start for home. It's only when I pull up in front of the apartment complex that I start to worry what Clary's reaction to my image will be. I mean, she saw that Jace at Pandemonium one night and she ran away. And I'm still not sure I'm completely cool about what happened during the fight today.

I exit the vehicle and start towards the building. I ignore the stares I'm getting from the other people on the ground floor. I just head towards the staircase (who has time for an elevator?) and run up to my floor. I walk as slowly as I can, but my feet seem to find the door to my apartment too fast. I produce my keys from my pocket, and slowly open the door.

The door creaks open and I wince. I carefully step inside the apartment and close the door behind me. That's when I realize that the TV is on. I turn so I can get a full view of the living room. I'm shocked to see Clary sitting there, completely still; not even acknowledging my presence.

Shrugging my jacket off, I start to walk towards the bathroom to shower. But that's when I realize the sound of the TV isn't the only thing I hear. I pause just to confirm it, and sure enough I can hear small sobs coming from the couch. Worry immediately engulfs me, and I rush over to Clary.

She's sitting cross legged on the couch. Tears are streaming down her face. She has on no makeup and her hair is thrown back into the most careless pony tail ever known to man kind. But I don't care about any of that right now. I fall to my knees and look up at her. Clary just continues to stare into space.

"Clary," I say softly, but she still jumps. Her eyes bore into mine for a second before she averts her gaze. Clary quickly tries to wipe away the tears on her face.

"I'm not crying," she mumbles. I feel a small smile appear on my face. Stubborn as always I see.

"Denying it isn't helping anyone, Red," I say. Clary's eyes darken.

"It's helping me," she whispers. "I don't want to cry."

A pang of guilt courses through my body. I reach out to touch her shoulder, and I'm genuinely surprised and hurt when Clary jerks away from me.

"What happened?" I ask. She just shakes her head and purses her lips together.

I stand up to my full height and look down at her. Clary looks so small sitting in my shadow.

"Tell me what happened," I demand, the calm leaving my voice with every word.

"It was nothing," she says, her voice shaking slightly. "I met with Simon today-"

" _Simon?_ " I all but yell. "Rat face is who made you cry?"

Clary stands up abruptly. And not on the floor. She's standing on top of the couch, and for the first time we're actually the same height. There's a look of fire in her eyes as she spits her next words.

"So what if he did? It's none of your business. I'm fine now," she says, her voice raising. "And I don't need you shit right now. You were obviously in a fight that didn't turn out well."

I'm too stunned to by her attitude towards me to stop her as grabs her phone and slides on her shoes. "I'm going to Izzy's for a little bit," she says. "We have a lot to talk about."

I don't respond. I just watch her walk out of my apartment. The sound of the TV in the eerie quiet is almost taunting. After a few moments, I let out an angry yell. Then I walk to the bathroom to shower and get changed.

Clary

I was harsh. Even I know that. But the sudden anger of realizing Jace is making my life so much more complicated made me snap. Simon's utter lack of support of my situation wasn't what made me cry. It was the hard hit of reality that my relationship with Jace will never be the same again.

I clunk down the stairs of the apartment complex. I give a small smile to the doorman as I reach the ground floor and exit the building. As soon as the summer air hits me I fish my phone out of my pocket and dial Izzy's number.

One ring.

Two rings.

"Hello?" I hear Izzy's voice on the other end. I can't help the small tears that roll down my face.

"Hey Iz," I say trying to disguise the crack in my voice. "Can I come over?"

"Yeah, of course," she replies, sounding surprised. "Is everything all right?"

I hesitate before I answer. "Um, I guess. I just need to talk to you."

"Where are you?"'

"A couple blocks away from Jace's. I'll be there in a bit."

I hang up before she can ask any more questions and continue the walk to The Institute. More and more guilt weighs me down with every step I take. I feel absolutely awful because of the way I talked to Jace. And he didn't look good anyway. He almost looked hurt. I mean, he had blood all over his face...

Without realizing I'm crying, I stiffle a sob that rises in my throat. I ignore the looks from people on the streets of the city. I probably look like hell. I have no makeup on, barely any clothes on, and I'm crying my eyes out.

I finally arrive in front of the exquisite apartment building. As I enter I'm relieved to see my favorite receptionist, Amatis, is at the front desk. She barely gives me second glance as she smiles at me and hands me a card for the elevator. I make my way over to the elevator and step inside.

A minute later I'm standing in front of Izzy's door, knocking.

"It's open!" I hear her yell from inside. I open the door and step inside. Her penthouse is a mess, like usual. Izzy standing in the open kitchen, frowning at a packet of ramen. When I close the door, the woman looks up.

"Clary!" she says in a desperate voice. "My phone broke and I need lunch, but I don't know how to-" She stops in the middle of her sentence as she looks me over. "Honey-"

"I have feelings for Jace," I blurt out. Izzy's mouth falls open and her eyes widen. But she quickly regains her composure and rushes over to me.

"Sit down and tell me everything."

So I do.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: You should know by now I don't own shit. And if you didn't, well now you do.**

* * *

 _This story is inspired by the song Superheroes by The Script_

* * *

Jace

I don't know how long I've been sitting here at the bar knocking back drinks. I sat in my apartment and stared at the clock until it turned to four. Then I rushed out of my apartment and to Pandemonium. I had tried to call Clary a few times, but after it went to voice mail every call I had given up.

My apartment felt so empty with out her there. And so did I. I'm not sure what happened, but Clary isn't acting like her normal self. After living with her for a couple weeks I learned that she has a fiery temper once you get to know her. She's incredibly nice and extremely stubborn. She's a hard worker. The red head never complains when Magnus asks her to work extra hours, or if she has a bad night at work.

Something's wrong. The only problem? I have no idea what.

So here I am on my fourth round of whiskey shots. I start feeling the effects of the alcohol after the first three rounds. I don't know what time it is. The club has gotten more crowded since I first arrived, and it feels like I've been here for a while.

After a couple minutes I wave the bartender back over. I ask for another round. I'm prepared to drink my problems away.

Clary

"Izzy!" I say, my heeled boots clicking against the hard wood of the kitchen. "Magnus is going to kill me!"

"Relax, hon," I hear the woman call from the other room. "You'll be fine!"

I groan an readjust my uniform once again. Isabelle and I had spent the rest of the afternoon talking about Jace. She had seemed oddly happy with my revelation. She told me that I should tell him, but I flat out refused. And in the midst of our argument, we totally lost track of time. So now I'm hurrying to get out the door and get to Pandemonium.

I glance at the clock on the wall. It's past seven now. My shift started four minutes ago. I impatiently tap my foot as I wait for my friend to finish getting ready.

Izzy appears in the living room. She's wearing a dark purple dress that cuts off half way down her thighs, showing off her long legs. She's wearing sparkly black stilettos, making her even taller. Her black hair is straightened and her makeup is done dark and dramatic.

"How Simon scored you will always remain a mystery to me," I mutter. Izzy blushes at my comment.

I reach up to the top of my head to run my fingers through my hair. But my friend squeals and hits my hand.

"No!" she scolds. "Bad Clary!"

I roll my eyes. Izzy spent a ton of time curling my curly red hair into soft ringlets. She did my makeup, too. This time she did it light and natural, exactly how I like it. But she forced me to wear different boots. Black leather ones with higher heels then I'm used to. But I'm still short, unfortunately.

"Let's go," I announce, strutting towards the door and throwing it open. We descend the elevator into the lobby and then make our way to the parking garage. I hop into the front seat of Izzy's glamorous car, and we're off.

 **-Superheroes-**

The first thing I notice as I swiftly walk into Pandemonium are the death glares Maia is sending me from across the club. I rush around to the back and push past other employees until I make it to the other side of the bar. I drop my stuff carelessly and immediately go to tend the woman sitting in front of me.

It takes five whole minutes for Maia to make her way to my side of the bar.

"What the hell, Morgenstern?" she hisses. I wince at her harsh tone.

"Look, Maia, I'm really sorry. I promise this is the one and only time I'll be late for my-"

"No, not that," she says. My eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"What?" I ask. Maia points to the far side of the bar. My eyes widen as I take in the image of Jace, slouched over a half empty glass of a heavy drink.

"What did you do to him?" Maia asks me harshly. Overwhelming guilt courses through my body.

"I-I-" I stutter, trying to form an answer.

"Well whatever you did you better fix it," she says, starting to walk away. "He's dead drunk at the moment. Won't respond to anything I say."

The sound of someone's whistle breaks me out of my shock. I hastily wipe a tear from my cheek as I turn and head towards the source of the whistle. I can worry about Jace later. Right now I have a job to do.

I continue to glance at Jace throughout my shift. From what I can tell he's not drinking heavily at the moment. Just an occasional swig from the bottle he now has in front of him. But it's extremely obvious that he's drunk, or at least lost. I've seen girls come up to him and try to get his attention, but none have proved successful.

Finally I can't stand it anymore. I finish up the drink I'm making, wipe my hands off, and walk towards the opposite end of the bar.

"Get someone to cover for me," I tell Maia as I walk past her. I don't wait to hear response. I just keep walking until I'm parked right in front of the golden man who has proved to be my friend.

I take a deep breath. "Jace," I say softly. His head immediately snaps up. His eyes are bloodshot and his face is pale. His curly golden hair is plastered to his forehead. In short, he looks terrible.

"Clary," he says in a gruff voice, cracking a smile. Usually this would make my heart leap, but the slight slur in his words basically tells me his judgement is clouded.

"Jace, you need to get home," I say in an authoritative tone. But he just leans further forward and laughs.

"I'm fine," he says. Even though he has a smile on his face, his words have a dangerous feel. Like he's daring me to challenge him.

"You're drunk," I say, my voice slightly wavering. "Izzy can drive you back to your apartment."

Jace's eyebrows narrow. Without thinking, I take a slight step backwards. A humorous bark of laughter escapes his lips.

"So you're scared of me now," he slurs, swaying slightly in his seat. "Think I'm gonna start hitting you? Like your brother?"

 _He's drunk_ , I tell myself. _He doesn't know what he's saying._

"But here's the truth, Red," Jace says. His eyes are dark and dangerous. He leans over the bar, and I refuse to let myself back away. "I would never let anything happen to you. Because you're a pretty little thing, aren't you?"

His words make me genuinely surprised. Did Jace just... call me pretty?

I immediately shake away any feeling I have because of what he said. I repeat my words from earlier. _He's drunk. He doesn't know what he's saying._

Jace runs a hand through his hair. "Y'know," he mumbles, almost to himself. "I like you, Red."

My eyes widen. It feels like fireworks are going off in my brain.

"You're pretty..." Jace says again. He leans forward and slowly, carefully, tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. His eyes are still dark, but he doesn't look dangerous. He almost looks vulnerable. I find myself leaning into his hand that's now cupping my cheek. My eyes flutter and my eyes stay locked on his.

The strong stench of alcohol brings me back to reality as I realize Jace is leaning in. I'm stunned for a second when his lips briefly connect with mine. But I quickly push him off of me and back up.

Thankfully right at that moment Izzy decides to show up.

"Woah, Jace!" she shouts, putting a hand on his shoulder and holding him back. Jace has a look of shock on his face.

"You didn't kiss me back," I hear him mutter. I'm too surprised to do anything. I just stand there with wide eyes, looking at the golden man in front of me.

"I'm going to take you home, Jace," I hear Izzy say. Jace nods his head and stands up, almost toppling over. Izzy has to support most of his weight as they make their way out of the club.

As soon as they're both out of sight, I return to my work. But I'm not fully invested in bartending as I usually am other nights. I'm too distracted by the memory of Jace's lips briefly on mine.

And the thought of my crush kissing me, even though he was totally drunk when he did it, makes me smile.

 **A/N: I know, I know! It's really short! But if I wrote anymore, it would interrupt the flow of the story. And God knows we don't want that.**

 **I was asked to favorite stories. I do read a lot of fanfiction after all. But I'm lazy, so I'm just going to tell you in the moment:**

 **Hate by iLoveMeSomeCaptainAmerica**

 **Captured by iLoveMeSomeCaptainAmerica**

 **Just Before Midnight by 99**

 **Chasing the Sun by Niknakz93**

 **Those are my four favorite stories of all time. I'll continue to tell you guys if I find any more really good ones, and you can tell me your favorites, too! is a way to spread creativity and help young aspiring writers share their stories. As an author, I know this first hand.**

 **Thank you all for the awesome reviews! You guys really make my day!**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

 _This story is inspired by the song Superheroes by The Script_

* * *

Jace

I don't think I've ever had a hangover this bad. I must have drunk a _lot_ last night. The searing pain in my skull combined with the dryness of my mouth tells me that today is going to be a rough one.

I open my eyes as much as I can manage right now and sit up. I'm in my bedroom. All the lights are shut off and my curtains are closed. I briefly wonder who's responsible for making me this comfortable.

As I sit in the dark, I try to remember what happened the previous night. I remember Clary's strange burst of rage for what felt like no reason, me arriving at Pandemonium and ordering the first round of shots, people coming up to me that I ignored, and... nothing. There's a nagging feeling in my stomach that something else had happened. Something important. But my memory is blank.

I hear a soft tap on my door.

"Come in," I say gruffly. The door swings open a couple feet, allowing a small figure to slip inside. A feeling of happiness over comes me as I realize who it is. But that feeling is almost instantly replaced confusion.

Clary walks over to my curtains, pulling them back slightly so light can enter the room. I squint and grit my teeth, but decide not to complain. Mostly because now I can see her. She's wearing nothing special. Jeans and an orange tank top. But I can see her slight curves and her porcelain skin. Her hair is down and in a tumbling mess that falls over her shoulders. Her green eyes and freckles seem to glow in the dark lighting of the room.

It was hard to come to terms with the feelings that I've been recently experiencing with this girl. At first I denied it. There was no way me and an eight-teen year old bartender could have anything more than a friendship. But I guess last night I accepted it. I couldn't hold back the pain that came with her storming out on me. And that what confused me the most.

"Are you feeling okay?" she asks quietly. I make sure to look straight into her eyes as I nod my head. Clary shifts her weight, an uncomfortable expression over taking her face.

"What about you?" I reply with my own question. She shrugs. That's all the answer I get.

"Come here," I say. Clary hesitates before she cautiously makes her way over to my bed. I sit up and run my fingers through my hair. I notice I'm wearing the same pants I wore last night, but my shirt has mysteriously disappeared. "What happened last night?" I question once she sits down.

Clary tenses. Her eyes seem to widen and she starts to fidget with her hands.

"Nothing," she claims. I snort.

"You're a terrible liar," I mutter. Deciding to come back to later, I ask another question: "Why were you so angry yesterday? As far as I know I didn't do anything."

Clary doesn't look as nervous, but it takes a longer time for her to answer. She eventually shoots me a glare and crosses her arms over her chest.

"How about you mind your own damn business?" she snaps. And that tone and her reaction to a simple question is enough to set me off.

"See?" I say, raising my voice. "There it is again. Getting mad at me for no reason. And I want to know why."

Clary jumps up from the bed. "I told you, it's none of your business!"

"Why not?" I reply, struggling to keep my cool. "We've lived together for the past two weeks. I think I deserve to know why you're suddenly acting like a bitch!"

The red head laughs harshly. "Oh that's a low blow, Goldilocks. Since when did _you_ become such a dick?"

I jump up from my spot on my bed, instantly regretting it with the pain in my head. But I ignore it. "Maybe since you decided that you can't stand me!"

"Oh my God. Can you ever just leave me alone? Maybe I don't want to talk about it, huh? Ever thought of that?" Her tone of sarcasm is one to rival mine. And as much as I hate to admit it, it looks like I'm losing this battle. But I'm not going down easily. I take a step towards the small girl.

"You're forgetting who has the upper hand here," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. "Not only am I older, I'm faster, stronger, and a whole lot more experienced than you."

"So you're threatening me now." I nod my head. Clary's glare deepens. "I was wrong about you. You're a total asshat."

A bark of laughter escapes my lips. "Asshat? That's a new one."

I watch as Clary takes a step closer to me. She has to look up quite a bit now. I smirk as I'm reminded of how much taller I am than her.

"You know, I could've questioned you about why you had so much blood all over you when you walked through that door yesterday. But I could tell you didn't want to talk about it. So I didn't."

"Fine!" I say, throwing my arms in the air. "Don't tell me why you went psycho bitch on my ass. But I'm not letting you leave until you tell me what happened at the bar last night."

Clary's expression of anger turns into one of shock. "You don't remember?"

"Don't remember what?" I ask, furrowing my brows. The uncomfortable look is now back on her face. "Tell me!" I yell.

I feel bad when I watch her wince at my tone. But soon she's back up in my face, the anger back to the surface.

"Fine," she snaps. "I'll tell you everything." My eyes widen as I see tears form in her eyes.

"Last night you kissed me!" she practically wails. Wait, what? My vision seems to go out of focus for a couple seconds. When it returns, I see a crying Clary nodding her head.

"Yup. That's what happened. You were dead drunk and out of your mind, but you kissed me." I'm having trouble processing everything she's saying.

"And earlier that day I had gone to see Simon. It was meeting him that made me upset, but it wasn't him that made me cry. It was you. Becuase, Jace Wayland, I have feelings for you."

I'm pretty sure my mouths hits the floor as Clary shouts her confessions. I'm too stunned to speak.

"I tried to convince myself it was a silly crush, but in reality it's so much more. And I was crying because I knew that you would never feel the same way for me."

I can't speak. My brain seems to have completely shut down. Instead of responding, I just stare at Clary. Her eyes seem to hold a desperate look as she looks back at me. Her shoulders are slumped in defeat. She waits for a second before cracking a broken smile.

"I knew it," she whispers softly, almost to herself. But suddenly the pained expression is taken over by a determined one. And without any warning, her lips crash onto mine forcefully.

The heat that her lips provide feels so right. My mind seems to clear as Clary kisses me. But it's over too quickly. Clary pulls back, her hopeless expression back on her face.

"Sorry," she mutters. "I just had to-"

She's cut off by me. Or more specifically my lips on hers. The force was enough to knock her backwards, and now I'm laying on top of her. Our lips are moving in sync, hungrily against each other.

It looks like we've both been denying the feelings we've gained for each other in the weeks we've known each other. I didn't realize how much I really needed Clary until her lips were on mine. The final piece of my life I was missing.

As we battle for dominance, I promise myself I'm going to make this work. Somehow this will last. I just have to figure out how.

 **-Superheroes-**

Clary

I'm snuggled into Jace's side. We're both laying on his bed. My head is nestled into the crook of his arm, and his fingers are continuously running through my hair. I let out a content sigh as he plants a soft kiss on my forehead.

We've been laying here all day. After we had out heated make-out session, we just got up and went for breakfast. Jace's hangover had seemed to magically disappeared along with any tears I had shed that morning. While we were at Java Jones we talked. We talked a lot. We discussed what happened, our feelings for each other, and what we were planning to do. Jace said we should tell Izzy and Simon right away, but I said that we should keep it from Simon for a little bit.

During that conversation my feelings for Jace seemed to blossom even more. I don't know why I was so scared to admit my feelings for him. Now that I have a huge weight has been taken off of my chest. I hope that Jace feels the same way.

I hear my phone ding from the kitchen. Despite my comfortable position, I force myself to sit up.

"Come on, Red," Jace groans. I look over my shoulder and down at the man next to me.

"Sorry," I say, giving an apologetic smile. "I have to check this."

"Okay, but one more kiss."

I giggle as his strong arms wrap around my waist and pull me back down. I plant a quick kiss on his lips before jumping up and running out of the room.

"Hey, that doesn't count!" Jace complains from the other room. I smile to myself as I walk around the kitchen and living room, looking for my phone. I finally find it under a pillow on the couch. I pick it up, a churn in my stomach. Sure enough, it's from who I thought it was.

I open my phone and read through the message:

 _Clarissa A. Morgenstern,_

 _You have been invited to present your portfolio today at four thirty five in the afternoon at the Brooklyn Academy of Art-_

I don't even bother to read the rest of it. I let out a squeal and throw my phone in the air. Thankfully it lands safely on the couch. Then I start doing a happy dance around the small apartment.

"What are you doing?" Jace asks in a hoarse voice. I stop my dance and turn to face him. He just walked out of his room, and he's now standing in the doorway with a confused expression on his face. I run up to him and throw my arms around him. I know I have a ridiculous grin on my face and probably look like a total moron, but I don't care in the moment.

"Seriously," Jace laughs. "Are you okay?"

"I get to present my portfolio today!" I yell. Jace picks me up by my hips and I wrap my arms around him. Now we're eye to eye. And his face shows almost as much excitement as mine.

"That's great!" he exclaims after pressing a firm kiss on my mouth. "What time?"

"Six thirty five," I say. Jace's eyes widen.

"Clary, it's four already. We need to get to Brooklyn!"

At this comment I jump down from my spot in Jace's embrace.

"Shit, you're right! I still need to shower and get dressed- Oh my God what am I going to wear?" I wail, starting to aimlessly wander around the apartment. Butterflies are forming in my stomach as I think about how unprepared I am for this.

"Calm down, Red," Jace sighs, placing a hand on my shoulder. I stop pacing. "Start getting ready. I'll grab your art and pick out an outfit. Don't stress. You'll do awesome."

I smile and quickly hug Jace before rushing off to the bathroom. Let's do this.

 **A/N: I am so fucking sorry for making you guys wait. But there's the Clace.**

 **So I got a review asking why I was making such a big deal out of a three year age gap. And I agree with you. Three years is really nothing. But it is for Clary and Jace, just because of who they are. Clary is some innocent eight teen year old who doesn't really trust older guys because of what her brother is like. Remember, Jonathon and Jace are basically the same age. And Jace is proud and cocky. The idea of having feeling for a younger girl like Clary and not some blonde he can get a good night out of is new to him.**

 **I'll try to return to updating frequently again. This story still has a lot left. I'm thinking at least thirty chapters. And then I'm starting my other story. So yeah.**

 **Thank you all for sticking with me. I know that I'm a bitch for not updating sooner. I promise I'll never make you wait this long again!**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

* * *

Clary

I exit the academy, my heart pounding and my breathing deep. I was told I would receive the final information in about a week. So I'm now preparing for the longest week of my life.

I stop at the top of the outside stairs, scanning my surroundings until I spot the familiar golden halo of hair I was looking for. I walk down the steps and towards him. I grin when I notice that Jace is holding two cups of coffee. He holds one out to me and I gladly take it.

"How'd it go?" he asks me as I take a sip of the drink. I shrug my shoulders and look at the building.

"I honestly have no idea," I answer. "They didn't talk much."

Jace links his free hand with mine, and we make our way over to a nearby park bench on the side of the academy. We sit next to each other, drinking our coffee and watching people walk by.

The mid summer weather is surprisingly mild. It's about eighty degrees and overcast. The air isn't too humid, or too dry. There's a nice breeze that's blowing my hair out of my face. In other words, it's absolutely perfect.

"Do you think they liked you?" Jace questions after a little bit. I just shrug my shoulders again. "Maybe you should have worn the outfit I picked out for you."

A smile spreads on my face as I lightly punch Jace in the arm.

"No way," I scoff, shaking my head.

While I was in the shower this morning, Jace thought he could play Izzy and pick out a decent outfit for me to wear. Instead of something professional and nice looking, he laid out a pair of super skinny jeans, a leather tube top, and knee high boots that Izzy gave me and I totally forgot about.

He insisted this would insure me a spot in the school.

I disagreed.

So I picked out my own outfit. I decided to wear the skinny jeans, because they weren't bad when paired with the right top. I found a white top and dark blue blazer which looked great together, and then slipped on a pair on black ankle boots. I attempted to straighten my hair, which calmed down the curls a little bit.

After I was done getting ready, Jace and I ran to the nearest subway station so we could go from Manhattan to Brooklyn.

I feel a giddy feeling inside when I remind myself that this is my first time out of Manhattan. Brooklyn isn't much different. I mean, it's still a city. But I found myself looking around at different sites to draw as we were rushing to get to the academy.

My real wish is to leave the city. Go out to the county somewhere and just relax. I close my eyes and lean back, picturing only the sunlight on my face; not a bunch of lights from the buildings and cars. I imagine the stars, the giant trees, the wind filled with the scent of fresh grass and flowers.

"Clary!"

I snap my head up and turn towards Jace.

"What?" I ask stupidly. He smirks and places a quick kiss on my cheek, causing me to blush.

"We better get back. You have work tonight."

I groan at the mention of my job. Bartending at Pandemonium is getting really boring. But at least I'm earning money and have something to do every night.

"Okay," I drag out the word. Jace stand up and looks down at me. I dramatically throw my arms out and give him puppy dog eyes. He rolls his eyes but complies and pulls me to my feet. His arm wraps around my waist and we begin to walk back to the subway.

But as we're walking, spot something.

"Jace! Can we get something to eat here?" I ask, pointing at the small cafe. The sign over the door reads 'Taki's.' I remember Simon telling me about this place. Apparently Izzy and him went here for their anniversary. He told me when I got to go to Brooklyn that I should eat here.

The memory of Simon causes my spirits to drop for a second, but they're quickly lifted when Jace agrees to my request. I practically skip into the tiny cafe with Jace walking behind me.

We sit down at a booth and order our food almost immediately. We collapse into a booth and start up a conversation about a topic we've never really talked about before: Jace's fighting.

"I mean, do you like it?" I question hesitantly. He pauses before answering.

"I don't think I _like_ it, but it's familiar. Keeps me from going off track." I nod my head.

"What got you into it?" Jace gives me a strange look, but replies anyway.

"After a particularly nasty beating my father bestowed on me," he says through gritted teeth. "I ran away for a couple of days. Crashed at Alec Lightwood's house. After I was taken care of, he told me he had to go somewhere. He was obviously hiding something, so I decided to follow him. I ended up at a fight club. I watched a couple of fights and was completely fascinated."

"Wait," I object, holding a hand up. " _Alec_ was into the underground fighting stuff? Isn't he a cop?"

Jace nods his head. "Yeah. He gave it up after Izzy found out. Plus he wasn't as serious as I am about it. It wasn't his main source of income."

"So when did you start?" I ask, fiddling with a plastic straw.

"Shortly after I found out Alec was involved in it. I didn't do so hot at the beginning. I got beat up a lot. But I soon found my way around the underground fighting industry. Worked my way to the top. Made a name for myself."

"Isn't the first rule of fight club not to talk about fight club?" I joke. Jace cracks a smile.

"Yeah, so you better not tell anyone," he replies.

The waiter soon comes with our food. Both of us ordered the coconut pancakes, which is an odd meal for lunch, but it looked delicious.

I immediately start digging in. Jace and I barely exchange a word as we attempt to eat as quickly as possible. Jace is done a lot quicker than me. He proceeds to cheer me on as I finish my meal, which earns him many glares and hits in the arm.

I finish and we pay. Jace helps me out of the booth, and we start to walk out of the cafe quickly. But a voice stops me in my tracks.

"Clarissa?" I hear a woman say. Only a few people in this world call me by my full name. And I know who this is immediately. I turn around, making sure to keep my expression stony and unreadable.

"Mom. Dad," I say, acknowledging my so called parents who stand there looking at me with wide eyes. "Now if you'd excuse me, I'd like to get going."

"Wait!" Jocelyn calls. I roll my eyes and look at her, waiting for her to say something.

"We've been worried sick about you, honey," she claims, stepping towards me. My father just stands there, doing and saying nothing.

"Really?" I ask, raising my voice slightly. "Why do you care so suddenly? You've never given a shit about me before."

I feel bad when my mother winces, even though what I said is completely true.

"Clarissa, you've been gone for weeks! I get a call from your manager at some bar telling me you were admitted into the hospital!" Jocelyn cries. "I know that your father and I haven't been, well-"

"Good parents?" I offer. My mother hesitates before nodding.

"Yes. We've been awful parents! And we both agree that we want to change"

I turn towards my dad and look at him. He clears his throat.

"We want you to come back home."

I stare at them with a dumbfounded look on my face. Did they just say they want me to come home? Really? Who do they think they're kidding? I soften my voice before answering.

"I accept your apology. And I do believe that we can mend out relationship. But..." I grab Jace's hand and pull him closer to me. "I'm happier than I've ever been right now," I say softly. "I presented my portfolio today at a college, and I have a steady job at the moment." For some reason I feel tears welling in my eyes. "I'm sorry."

We stand in silence for a while. Finally my mother straightens up and flashes me a forced smile. "That's okay, baby. Just... come home when you're ready, okay?"

I nod my head. Then I pull my mom in for a hug. She seems to tense at first, but quickly relaxes and hugs me back. Then I hug my father, which I don't think I've ever done before.

As my parents walk past Jace and I to exit Taki's, my father turns around one more time.

"By the way, your brother misses you."

That's all it took for my blood to run cold and silent tears to start running down my face.

I hastily wiped them from my cheeks as I watched my parents disappear into the city street. I barely register Jace wrapping an arm around my shoulder and leading me out of Taki's while whispering comforting words into my ear.

I finally snap out of my daze. My tears stop falling and the feeling of fear and dread has left my body, now replaced by anger and annoyance.

"Let's get back to Manhattan," I snap, shrugging away from Jace and starting to walk towards the subway. But Jace grabs my hand and spins me around, forcing me to look him in the eyes.

"Clary-" he starts, but being the nice person I am I cut him off.

"No," I say, a tone of finality in my voice. "We'll talk about it later." Then just because Jace doesn't look satisfied, I add, "I promise."

"Okay," Jace sighs. "But I'm holding you to your word."

And then we both start running down the sidewalk towards the subway station.

 **-Superheroes-**

"Shit," I gasp as I accidentally drop the empty glass I have in my hand. I bend down and start to gather the pieces of broken glass into my hand.

"Wow, Red. Could you be any more clumsy?" I hear someone laugh. I snap upwards, my red hair being flipped in my ponytail, directing a glare towards the man at the bar right in front of me.

"Do you want me to try?" I retort, throwing the glass away into the nearby trash can.

"If you do, can you wait? I'll need to record it," Jace replies with a smirk. I can't help the small smile that appears on my lips.

I tighten my ponytail before refilling the golden man's glass. Then I make my way around the bar, making sure everyone here is happy and content (and not totally wasted).

As I mix up a couple of cocktails for a group of women, I glance at the clock posted on the wall. A groan escapes my lips when I realize it's only a little after ten. I still have almost two hours left in my shift. This night is taking _forever._

At least Jace is here. He came with me and has been sitting at the bar since it opened. But instead of drinking his sorrows away, he's been keeping me company. Moving around to wherever I'm stationed at the moment, making sure I don't kill myself on the job.

I hand the cocktails to the women who tip me generously. I look around the bar, but don't see anyone in need of my assistance at the moment. So I walk to where Jace is at the moment. He's sitting there quietly sipping his scotch, staring at the dance floor. I wait for him to notice me, and when he doesn't, I clear my throat. To my disappointment, he barely reacts. Just turns his head and raises an eyebrow.

"If you want to go there you can," I say, gesturing to the dance floor. Jace just shakes his head and smiles.

"I'd rather sit here and watch a beautiful lady on the job," he replies. I blush and go to hit him lightly in the arm, but he dodges my blow and instead grabs my hand and pulls me down for a kiss.

I hear someone clearing their throat, and I jump away from Jace. I turn my head towards the noise. I'm absolutely mortified when I see Magnus, Alec, Izzy, and Simon all standing there. Everyone's mouth is hitting the floor except for Magnus'. He's just giving me a pointed look that reads, 'What the hell do you think you're doing?'

"Clary, I believe PDA is against the rules for employees," Magnus tells me. Even though it's apparent he's trying to be serious, the man can't keep a tone of amusement out of his voice.

"Sorry, Mags," I grumble, stepping away from the bar.

I then take the moment to observe everyone's else's reactions. To my surprise Izzy and Alec are both grinning. But Simon is turning redder by the moment. Our eyes lock, and I begin to dread the conversation me and my best friend are going to be having in the future.

Magnus seems to notice the looks Simon and I are exchanging, and makes the smart decision by pulling the group away to a different section of the bar. I keep my eyes on Simon, hoping he'll get my message that I'll explain later. But he averts his gaze and sits down next to Izzy.

"Hey," Jace says softly. I look up at him and force a smile onto my lips.

"We got three out of four!" I attempt to joke, but the worry in my voice is clearly evident. Jace takes reaches his arm out and takes my hand. I almost pull back, but decide against us. I can almost feel Simon's gaze boring into me as Jace places light kisses on my hand.

"If you want, I can try to talk to him," Jace offers. Even though his tone has no hostility, I know that that would end badly. So I shake my head and disconnect our hands.

"Let me take care of it, okay?" I tell him.

A big group of people sit down on my end of the bar. I sigh and give Jace one last smile before heading over to them.

 **-Superheroes-**

About forty five minutes later, Magnus comes up to me. It's clear he's been drinking. The suit he's wearing is messed up, his tie is missing, and he's covered in more glitter than he came in with. I discreetly roll my eyes, silently wondering why my manager is allowed to act out like this.

"Clary," he says, his tone going serious in the moment. "You have ten minutes."

I'm about to ask what he's talking about, but Magnus points to the back exit of the club where Simon is standing there.

I nod solemnly and make my way out from behind the bar. I push through the crowd, not letting my size allow me to get trampled. When I make it to Simon, I park myself right in front of him and cross my arms over my chest.

Simon doesn't say anything. He just pushes the door open and steps aside, allowing me to step into the alley. I feel like he slams the door with a little more force than necessary. I can hear the faint pounding of music coming from inside, and the sound of the busy street. The two sounds blend together making some sort of strange melody. But I'm not focused on that right now. All I can do is take in my best friend's expression of anger that adorns his face.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Simon says bitterly. His tone makes me wince. He's never talked to me like this before.

"Last time I checked you weren't in charge of me," I fire back, attempting to keep my voice calm. It's extremely hard not to launch myself into his face and start yelling at him. Somehow I'm able to restrain myself.

Simon runs a hand through his hair and starts to pace in front of me. "I told you he was bad news. Yet you go after him anyway!"

"You don't know him, Simon!" I shout, not being able to hold it in. "You are in no place to judge him."

He stops pacing for a second, a look of utter disbelief on his face. Then he shakes his head and continues to walk back and forth.

"I thought you were smarter than this, Clare Bear," he chuckles. I glare at him and straighten up taller.

"I don't see how you can judge someone so quickly!" I cry, throwing my hands up in the air. Simon just laughs bitterly and looks right into my eyes.

"Let me ask you this," he says. "How much do you really know about Jace Wayland?" He doesn't give a chance to answer. Simon just continues his rant. "Because I bet I know a whole lot more than you. Izzy told me a ton about this man. And he doesn't exactly have a clean record."

My mouth opens in shock. This is not the Simon I met when I was fourteen. I've never seen him this pissed off, even after someone stole his violin.

"Did you know he makes all his money in underground fighting?" he asks.

"Yes," I answer quietly.

Simon looks genuinely shocked by my answer.

"Did you know he has a history of alcoholism?" he tries again. I nod my head in response. "Or that he had a messed up childhood?"

That last comment is the last straw. Because I finally blow a gasket.

"Yes!" I yell, anger lacing my words. "Do you know why? Because he told me! And because I told him about me! He's not a bad person, Simon. Jace has more in common with me than you'll ever have."

A look of hurt flashes across Simon's face, but I'm too angry to care at the moment.

"Maybe I'm stupid," I laugh. "Maybe I'm completely naive and getting into this relationship with some guy who has a troubled life. But for the first time in my life, I'm happy! I don't have to worry about my completely terrible parents, or my abusive brother. I'm safe with Jace. And I'm not going to leave him just because I don't have your approval."

Simon doesn't say anything. He just stares at me. I can tell he's trying his hardest not to yell right back at me. I can see the veins in his forehead and his fists are clenched.

Not wanting to do anymore damage, I turn around and head back inside of the club without another word.

Even though I'm extremely pissed at Simon, it still hurts to lose a friend.

 **A/N: So I messed something up again guys. I told you I was an inconsistent writer, and this is a perfect example of that.**

 **In chapter three it's mentioned that Clary's birthday is on August 20th or close to that date. We're gonna pretend that her birthday was on JUNE 20th. Because that's the beginning of summer. Got it? Okay. So currently our story is in the month of July.**

 **I had someone ask me why this story was called Superheroes. That's because it was based on the song Superheroes by The Script. If you listen to the song it will make more sense. I've explained this before, about how I kind of get off track sometimes with my story. So I'm sorry if it makes no sense.**

 **You guys are awesome. I can't express how thankful I am for all of your reviews and just for you reading my story.**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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 _This story is inspired by the song Superheroes by The Script_

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 **A/N: First thing I need to say is IF YOU HAVEN'T LISTENED TO THE SONG THIS STORY IS BASED ON, YOU MIGHT WANT TO. JUST SAYING. OKAY? GOT IT? GOOD. LET'S CONTINUE, SHALL WE?**

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Jace

I warily watch Clary disappear out into the back alley with Simon. I have no idea what's taking place, but all I know is both of them looked extremely pissed as they exchanged looks earlier. Even after Simon slams the door behind him, I keep my eyes of the door. But my contemplating is interrupted by none other than Izzy.

"So," the woman practically squeals. She takes a sip of her martini as she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. I can help but crack a smile and look away.

"Come on, Iz," I groan. "You know it's not like that."

"Yeah, I know," she says. I'm about to sigh in relief, but she's not done talking yet. "For the first time in history Jonathon Christopher Wayland has feelings for a girl!"

I almost spit out my drink. Even though it's true, hearing the words being said makes it sound weird.

"Could you do me a favor and never bring that up around Clary?" I almost plead. "I don't want her to think-"

Izzy shushes me and gives me a comforting smile. "Don't you worry about that." Her expression quickly changes to a serious one. She grabs me by my shirt collar and pulls me closer to her face. Izzy's usually warm brown eyes are now deadly and dangerous. My eyes widen as I take in her expression of hostility.

"I swear to God, Wayland," she threatens through gritted teeth. "If you hurt that poor girl in any way, I will personally stab you in the chest with one of my stilettos. Got it?"

I gulp and nod my head. Immediately Izzy lets go of me and her face returns to normal.

"Good," she chirps. "Because she doesn't need any more shit in her life." Izzy seems to look me up and down. She crinkles her nose as she inspects me. "Not sure why she went for you. That girl is honestly out of your league."

I raise an eyebrow at her claim. "I don't think anyone has ever told me someone was out of my league." I gesture to myself. "I mean, have you seen me?"

Izzy crosses her arms over her chest. "Your cocky attitude makes you less attractive," she counters.

I shrug my shoulders and take a sip of my scotch. "I manage to turn it off at certain moments." Izzy seems satisfied with my answer, so I add, "Like during make-out sessions."

My friend scoffs and hits me in the shoulder.

Thinking Clary should be back by now, I look over my shoulder and around the club. But I don't see her. I look for bright red hair, or someone in a bartending uniform. Unluckily I still don't find any signs that she's back inside.

I turn back around an see that Izzy's frowning in the same direction I was looking.

"They should be back by now," she mutters. I almost don't hear her. The club is pretty loud.

"Do you have any idea why Simon wanted to talk to her?" I ask, leaning in to make sure she can hear me. Izzy just shakes her head.

Finally I see the back door open and Clary storm through it. As she gets closer I notice that her fists are clenched and her face is tinted red. Her eyebrows are furrowed and her lips are pulled into a slight frown. She's evidently angry about something.

To my surprise Clary storms right up to me, throws her arms around my neck, and pulls me down for a passionate and rough kiss. My body reacts immediately, returning the hungry and desperate mood. Our lips move together and our tongues battle for dominance. We eventually break apart. I try to hide it, but I'm out of breath. Clary is panting, and her expression of anger is now one of satisfaction. Then she just walks away and back to the other side of the bar. I can't help but watch her as she struts to return to her job.

I turn and look at Izzy. Her mouth is open in shock as she stares at me.

"What?" I ask innocently. Izzy closes her mouth, then opens it again as if to say something, but she quickly closes it.

"I'm going to go look for my boyfriend," she mumbles. Grabbing her martini, Izzy hops down from the bar stool and disappears in the crowd.

 **-Superheroes-**

I wait outside until Clary is finished cleaning up the bar. I offered to help, many times in fact. But each time Clary told me she got it. I finally gave in when she started hitting me with a towel. So here I am, standing against the wall of the club, observing the people who are walking past at almost one in the morning.

"Hey," I hear a soft voice say. I look up, or rather down, at the small girl who's now standing in front of me. Clary has taken her hair out of her high ponytail, and her messy hair is now cascading over her shoulders. She's hugging her torso, as if cold. The summer nights can get chilly. So I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her into my side. We silently begin the walk back to my apartment.

After about five minutes of walking, I kiss the top of Clary's head and say, "Are you going to tell me what happened tonight?"

Clary stays quiet for a few moments before answering. "We got into an argument."

I laugh softly. "I kind of figured that out myself. May I ask you why, exactly, were you arguing?"

Again, she hesitates before replying to my question.

"It was about you."

That was not the answer I was expecting. I stop in my tracks and take my arm away from Clary so I can face her.

"What?" is all I manage to say in the moment. She sighs, and tucks a curl behind her ear; a habit I've seen her do when she's nervous or uncomfortable.

"Remember when I came back to the apartment crying?" she says quietly. I nod my head. How could I forget? It was before we had that terrible fight.

"Do you remember how I told you I had gone to see Simon earlier?" Again, I nod. I have no idea where this is going.

Clary averts her eyes away from my gaze and starts fidgeting with her hands. "Well, I had texted him earlier and asked if we could talk. It was when I realized I had feelings for you." The words are now coming out as a rush. "And I needed someone to talk to. So when we were there, I told him the way I felt for you."

I raise my eyebrows. It shocks me how much trust Clary can put in a person.

"But..." Oh no. There's a 'but'. "In short, Simon wasn't happy. Told me not to act on my feelings. That you weren't a good guy and that I shouldn't be with someone 'like you'."

I'm glad she puts air quotes around the last part. It would kill me if she also thought I was a bad influence.

"Tonight was basically a follow up of that conversation. He totally lost it when he saw us kissing."

Clary observes me as if waiting for a my reaction. I can tell she suspects I want to beat him up or threaten him by the way it appears she's about to jump into action. But in all honesty, I couldn't care less about what Rat Face thinks of me.

So I shrug my shoulders and start to walk again. I take Clary's hand in mine and she walks with me.

"Let him think what he wants to think," I tell her. "As long as you know he isn't right that's all that matters."

She doesn't answer me. Well, not with words anyway. Clary squeezes my hand and leans her head against my chest. We stay like this the entire walk back to my apartment. Unintentionally, we've both slowed down our pace as we walk; enjoying the company of the other person.

I feel more content then I've been in a while as we make our way up the couple flights of stairs to my apartment. But that feeling quickly disappears as I make out a large figure that is stationed on the ground in front of my door. My grip on Clary's hand tightens. I turn to look at the small girl. An expression of confusion dawns her face. I lean over a little bit so I'm looking her in the eye.

"I want you to call Izzy and tell her that I have to deal with something. She'll pick you up outside of the building, okay?" I explain as calmly as possible. But I'm fighting the urge to yell as loud as I can and punch something. _Why_ does he have to ruin everything?

"Jace, who is that?" the redhead asks, curiosity and worry in her voice. I shake my head and gently push her the other direction.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow," I say, avoiding the question. But Clary stand her ground.

"I'm not leaving until you tell me who is passed out in front of your apartment with a beer bottle in their hand."

I give a frustrated sigh and run my fingers through my golden locks. I hate how stubborn this girl is.

"Clary," I try, but she's not hearing any of it. She gives me a look that almost makes me gulp.

I finally give in. "It's my dad," I mutter.

The reaction is what I expected. Clary's eyes widen and her face pales a little. But instead of walking away (or running away) like I expected her to, she launches herself toward him. I grab her by the shoulders just in time before she lands on him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I hiss, keeping my voice low. The redhead glares at the figure on the floor and then back at me. She relaxes and the hostile look in her eyes goes away. Clary goes limp in my arms and she hangs her head.

"Sorry," she whispers. "It's just that... he hurt you, Jace."

My heart practically melts (it's not just a girl thing) as these words escape her lips. Because I've honestly never had someone care for me this much since...

 _My mom._

A pang of realization comes over me as I study Clary. She reminds me so much of my mother. I know it sounds weird, but their personalities and spirit is so similar.

My mother was stubborn as a bull. You always have to ask Clary at least twice to do something.

Clary has a passion for art; my mother's was music.

There was so much kindness in my mom's heart. I feel like Clary's heart expands every day.

And both of them have had the same effect of me. Both of them have made my life so much better, just because they've been in it.

I've already lost one of them. I have no idea what I would do if I lost the other.

Izzy's words from earlier come back to me: _"Not sure why she went for you. That girl is honestly out of your league."_ And I now understand what she was trying to say. Sure, most people would consider me a gorgeous specimen to look at. But Clary's internal beauty is what makes her out of my league. And her inner beauty makes her amazing on the outside.

I don't deserve her.

"Jace?" Clary whisper shouts, snapping her finger in front of my face. I break out of my thoughts and back into reality. "Are you okay?" she asks.

"Yeah," I reply, my voice cracking slightly. I clear my throat. "I'll be fine. You should go."

Her emerald green eyes never leave my golden ones. A genuine look of concern is reflected in them as she looks at me. Clary eventually slightly nods her head, then stands on her tip-toes and plants a gentle kiss on my lips.

"Stay strong for me, okay, Jace?" she whispers. Then she turns around and starts down the stairs.

I take a deep breath and clench my fists. I spin on my heel and face my father who is still passed out, and by the looks of it, completely wasted. I walk towards him, bend down, and yank him up by his collar. Immediately he wakes up. His eyes are bloodshot and his breath smells of alcohol and pot.

He gives me a crooked smile. "Jace," my father slurs. I don't respond; just clench my jaw and try not to punch the living daylights out of my abuser.

He waits, as if expecting a response. When he realizes I'm not going to say anything, he raises an eyebrow and lets out a drunken laugh.

"Let's talk, son."

Clary

I take the stairs two at a time. I'm thrilled about calling Izzy, because most likely Simon will be with her, but I don't have many other options at the moment.

The phone rings twice before Izzy picks up.

"What?" she demands. I can hear the exhaustion in her voice. I immediately feel bad.

"Iz, I'm sorry," I say. "I know it's late-"

"You think?" she replies through a yawn. I roll my eyes and stop my descent for a moment.

"Jace's dad showed up at the apartment," I try to explain.

" _What?_ " Izzy responds immediately.

"I was wondering if you could come pick me up," I say timidly. I've made it to the bottom of the staircase and I walk right outside.

"Of course, honey," my friend replies gently. "I'll be there in about ten minutes, okay?"

I'm about to thank her, but she's not done.

"And just so you know, my boyfriend isn't with me tonight."

The sigh of relief escapes me without my consent. I'm hoping that she didn't catch it, but it's kind of apparent that she did.

"Simon told me about the fight you two got in," Izzy explains. "So now both of us are mad at him."

A tiny smirk appears on my lips. Even though I feel bad for him, I'm glad that Izzy is taking my side in this argument.

"Well I better get going," Izzy chirps. I hear the rustling of sheets and I conclude she was asleep when I called her. Which just makes me feel worse about the entire situation.

"Okay. See you soon," I say quietly before she hangs up.

The warm summer breeze causes goose bumps to form on my arms. I stand next to the entrance of the apartment complex and watch for Izzy's sports car. But I'm not really paying attention. I can't keep my mind off of the way Jace was looking at me earlier. It was almost as if he was studying me. I mean, I've caught him looking at me before, and he usually plays it off with a smart remark. But it was almost as if he was in a trance. It honestly kind of freaked me out a bit.

Eventually Izzy's car pulls up on the curb in front of me, almost hitting two other parked cars. I walk towards the car and open the door, climbing into the passengers seat.

As soon as Izzy starts to drive my eye lids become extremely heavy. I try to fight off the urge to just pass out, but my body refuses to give in to my mind. So I find myself drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

 **A/N: WHO ELSE IS HYPED FOR THE MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS MOVIE? NOVEMBER 10TH BITCHES!**

 **Thank you all so much. This story has over 200 reviews. That's basically the same as giving me an early birthday party and a new puppy. I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH! :) :) :)**

 **Remember guys, if you have any ideas suggestions or complaints for this story, don't be afraid to tell me. I can take criticism. I'm a tough cookie.**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Jace

I let my 'father' into my apartment. Now he's struggling to stand up straight and face me. As I look him over, I can't help but think about how terrible he looks. He's thinner and appears to be losing strength. His skin has taken a sickly yellow color, his eyes are completely bloodshot, and it looks like he hasn't shaved in weeks.

"Jonathon," he grumbles, attempting to smile, but ends up retching instead. Then he reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a small bottle of liquor. "Have a drink with me."

Even though he seems friendly at the moment, I know how quickly he can flip the switch. I start to take a step backwards to get a glass, but I hesitate.

 _"Stay strong for me, okay,_ _Jace?"_ her voice echoes in my head. A surge of strength washes through me as I remember her emerald eyes searching my soul for confirmation that I would be okay. I can't let her down.

Instead of complying, I cross my arms over my chest and clench my jaw.

"You said you wanted to talk," I growl. "And that's what you're going to do."

The man is silent for moment. Then he starts to laugh. The sound is choked and forced, and it's horrible to listen to. I just stand there as my father recovers his breath.

"Well then," he slurs. "I'll talk."

Stephen takes a swig of the clear liquor before he starts to talk.

"I've been evicted," he finally says, staring off into space. "I need a place to live." His gaze shifts to me. "I'm going to live with you now."

I don't say anything. I just stand there, arms crossed over my chest, trying to process what my father is saying. He wants to live with me? He wants me to give him a place to stay? He wants me to give him a home, when he never gave me one?

"No." The one word has a tone of finality and over ruling; one I have never used with him before. Immediately his smile disappears, and his friendly expression is replaced by one of anger.

"How dare you speak that way to me, son," my father growls. I let out a small, harsh laugh.

"See, that's just the thing," I counter through gritted teeth. "I am _not_ your son. Never was, never will be."

Stephen launches himself at me. I react instinctively, and next thing I know, the drunk man is laying on the floor in front of me, clenching his jaw. My eyes widen as I realize that for the first time, I fought back. And it feels good.

Power coursing through me, I grab my father off the floor and hold him up to my eye level. For the first time, he's the one with fear in his eyes.

"If you think I would ever help you, you're wrong," I say. "Now the the fuck out of my house. Never come back here again." I punch him in the stomach. He doubles over and staggers backwards, wheezing. "There's more where that came from. No _go!_ "

The drunk turns and practically runs out my apartment. I watch him stumble down the stairs. When I'm satisfied that he's gone, my shoulders relax. My fists unclench, and a huge smile appears on my face. In less than ten minutes, I dealt with the problem that's been haunting me since my childhood. It feels like an anchor has been lifted off of my back.

I turn to look at the digital clock in my kitchen. The blinking lights tell me that it's about a quarter to two in the morning. Hopefully Clary is asleep at Izzy's by now. I'm too tired to walk to the Institute this late, so I decide I'll go there first thing in the morning. I want to make sure that Clary has a good night's sleep.

As I get ready for bed, I notice that the apartment is strangely quiet without the fiery red head here. I've gotten so used to her living with me.

I collapse on my mattress, and the last thought that enters my mind before sleep is how cold I feel without Clary pressed into my side.

 **-Superheroes-**

Clary

I can't sleep.

Izzy offered me a bedroom, but I wanted to sleep on the couch. I don't think my sleeping situation is the thing keeping me up, though. I'm pretty sure it's the feeling of butterflies that are flying around in my stomach.

I slept during the drive here, but as soon as I awoke, I knew there was no hope of getting back to sleep. Spinning around, I grab my phone from the crumpled heap of clothes that lay beside the couch. It's about five minutes to two. Silently groaning to myself, I hop up and start pacing the living room.

A draft of cold air comes from somewhere, and I shiver. Izzy gave me a tank top and some spandex shorts to sleep in. Honestly not my favorite combination. Even though it's summer, Izzy's apartment is freezing. She claims that the cold air keeps her looking younger, but I doubt there is any truth in that statement what so ever.

I stop my pacing for a second to take an elastic off of my wrist and throw my wild red hair into a careless bun.

The pressure of everything that has happened in the last few days is killing me. The start of my relationship with Jace (probably the only good thing), my parent's sudden change of heart, my presentation for college, my fight with Simon, and now the worry of what will happen between Jace and his father.

The last situation is the one worrying my the most right now. Probably because it's the only one I have no power over. All I could do was give a few words of encouragement and a kiss. He could be being beaten bloody right now for all I know. The thought of that causes a strangled gasp to escape my lips. I need to make sure he's okay.

I scramble to where my phone lays on the couch. As I start to dial Jace's number, it suddenly shuts down.

"Fuck!" I squeal. I forgot to charge it this morning. Now my battery is dead, and I have no way to contact Jace at the moment. Izzy doesn't have a land line, and I don't want to wake her up just to call him.

Collapsing on the plush couch behind me, I pull my knees up to my chest and sigh. I close my eyes and try to calm myself down. Whispering comforting words to myself, trying to make myself believe that he's fine.

There's a feeling in my heart that's one hundred percent sure that Jace is fine. I feel like the last words I whispered to him might have been more impactful than I thought. But I can't be sure.

A frustrated groan escapes my lips. I grab a pillow and hug it to my chest, then fall on my side and close my eyes. Even if I can't sleep, I'm at least going to take the time to relax.

I lay there, hugging the pillow, pretending that Jace is here next to me. I can imagine the smirk on his face if I told him I couldn't sleep. He would make fun of me for a little bit, but pull me into him anyway.

These thoughts cause my eyes to grow heavy. I silently say a prayer of thanks as the world turns to black.

 **-Superheroes-**

"Babe."

I groan in protest, keeping my eyes closed.

"Clary, you have to wake up."

I feel small kisses being placed on my jaw.

"Come on, Red."

I don't respond.

"CLARY!"

The sudden feminine shout causes me to bolt upright. I squint at the sudden brightness, and manage to make out the image of Jace and Izzy standing over me. It takes me a second to process where I am and the fact that Jace is okay.

"Hi," I state dumbly. Sue me. I'm not bright in the morning.

"Hi," Izzy replies. She doesn't try to disguise the amusement in her voice. "I'm making breakfast!"

"So we're going out," Jace intervenes. I snicker as Izzy glares at him and smacks him on the shoulder.

I sit up straight and rub my eyes. A yawn escapes my lips. Next thing I know, Jace is sitting next to me and pulling me into his side. I snuggle into his shoulder and try not to fall asleep again.

"I brought you a change of clothes," he murmurs into my hair. I don't respond.

We stay like this for a couple more minutes before Jace suddenly stands up. The warmth is gone, and it's like ripping off a band aid. I look up at his chiseled face and golden eyes and try to pout. All I get as a reply is an arrogant smirk.

"Come on," he coaxes. I roll my eyes, but comply and rise to my feet. I stretch my arms and rub my eyes. Jace wraps an arm around my waist and leads me towards the kitchen. There, he throws me a change of clothes and points me in the direction of upstairs. Sulkily, I walk up the staircase. When I reach the bedroom with the shower, I walk in and close the door.

As I begin to feel more and more awake, the events of the previous night start coming back to me in small images. I stop and stare at the blank wall. Since when was my life so complicated? It used to be get up, finish schoolwork, avoid my family, work at night, sleep, and repeat. Now there's so much more I have to worry about. I have no idea what my brother is going to do next, or if I'll get into the college I've been working for for years, or if Jace and I will have a successful relationship, or if Simon and I will ever make up, or...

I force myself to stop thinking about all the negatives. Instead, I start to strip off my clothes, and head towards the bathroom.

After a long, hot shower, I change into my new change of clothes. I attempt to do something with my hair, but it decides it doesn't want to cooperate. The best I can do is kind of tame it. After breaking three rubber bands, I give up on putting my hair up.

I bounce down the stairs. Izzy and Jace are both standing by the front door of the penthouse.

"Finally!" Izzy says dramatically. "How long does it take you put on jeans and a t-shirt?"

I ignore her. Walking towards them, I allow Jace to slide an arm over my shoulder. I look up at him as he plants a soft kiss on my nose.

"You ready?" he asks. I nod my head. He opens the door and lets Izzy through first.

The only thing I think as we enter the elevator, is that for once in my life, things are starting to look up.

 **-Superheroes-**

Jace

I lean back into the booth and listen as Izzy describes in excruciating detail how much trouble Simon was in. Then I watch my girlfriend (can I call her that?) try to convince her that Simon meant well.

That's the internal beauty that I keep noticing more and more. And every time that I see it, I love her even more. Yes, I know. If I told anyone who knew me that I was falling in love with a short tempered red headed bartender, they would laugh and tell me to get real. But no matter how many times I try to convince my inner tough guy that I'm not, I can't hide that I'm falling hard.

"So when do you get your letter of acceptance?" Izzy squeals. Clary smiles and shakes her head.

"Iz, who says I'm getting in?"

I laugh and rest my elbows on the table. "Of course you're getting in. Your portfolio was absolutely amazing. If you don't get in, I'm going down to that place and beating the shit out of the board of directors."

Clary's cheeks turn a light shade of crimson. I love it when I can make her blush.

I'm taken out of my Clary induced trance when I feel my phone buzz against my leg. I fish it out of my pocket and look at the caller ID. My brows furrow as I don't recognize the number. The brunch place we're at is kind of loud. I don't want to take this call in here.

"Sorry, guys. Could you give me a second?" I say quickly as I stand up. I barely notice the nod of Clary's head. I hurry to the outside of the building. When I have successfully made it to the quieter outside of the restaurant, I accept the call and hold the phone up to my ear.

"Hello?" I answer. I hear what sounds like the shuffling of papers before I hear a gruff masculine voice on the other end of the line.

"Ah, is this Jace Wayland?" he questions.

"That depends. Who's asking?" I say, my walls coming up immediately. The man gives a huff.

"This is Harold Turner from the New York City Legal Department," the man says. "I have some unfortunate news, son. You might want to sit down for this."

 **A/N: LET ME KNOW: Are you guys getting bored of this story? Should I keep going?**

 **I love you all. I'm sorry that I'm not updating as frequently. But I promise I won't quit on this unless all of you tell me this story is becoming completely shitty. Trust me, it's gonna get interesting soon. Pinky swear.**

 **I hope to have less than ten chapters left in this story. Not sure though. But I do have a complete plan and know exactly where this is going. So that's good.**

 **SQUIRG.**

 **Guys, did you know that pentagonal is a word? I found that out yesterday. I'm not dumb, I just didn't know that was a word. Sue me.**

 **Don't be an ignorant fuck. Review ;)**

 **JK. Love you all!**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

Clary

I check the time on my phone. He's been gone for more than twenty minutes! I look up at Izzy, who also has a worried expression on her face. A call can't be taking this long. What if something happened? What if he's hurt? I run a shakey hand through my curls and rub my temples.

"Don't worry, Clary," Izzy says. I know she's trying to comfort me, but her tone is completely unconvincing. "It's probably Will. Those two can talk for _hours_." The laugh at the end of her sentence is obviously forced.

I snap my head up and look at her.

"I'm going outside to check," I tell her as I stand up.

Swiftly walking towards the front of the restaurant, I glance around the inside and try to find a golden halo of curls. Unfortunately, none are to be seen.

When I throw open the door to the outside, a tiny voice in my mind is trying to tell me he's going to be there. Jace will be here, sitting on the outside bench, laughing away as he talks with his cousin on the phone. But any hope of him being there is shattered when I find the area outside the restaurant barren of Jace.

Taking my phone out of my back pocket, I shoot Izzy a quick text. Then I call Jace.

One ring, two rings, three, four...

 _"You've reached Jace. Please leave a message,"_ I hear the recorded voice instruct.

"Jace, this is Clary," I say, starting to pace. "Where the hell are you? What happened? Please tell me you're okay!" I pause for a breath, and to calm my frantic words. Sighing, I conclude with, "Just... call me back as soon as you can."

I hang up just as Izzy exits the restaurant. She seems to do a quick scan of the area, before a deadly glare appears on her face.

"Where did he go?" she mutters. Izzy stops, as if thinking, then turns back to me. "Do you know of anything that could have happened?"

"No," I sigh. "Not that I can think of."

"Come on, Clary," Izzy pleads. "Anything. I know what sets him off. Think!"

The events of the previous night come at me like a whirlwind. I snap my fingers, my eyes widening.

"What?" my friend demands.

"His dad," I say simply. Izzy straightens up.

"Right!" she exclaims.

Izzy whips out her phone and proceeds to leave Jace a message. I'm not paying attention to what she's saying. I'm trying to remember if Jace said anything about how it went. He seemed okay when I saw him, but I have no idea exactly what happened. I curse myself. That should have been the first thing I talked to him about in the morning. If I could have known what was bothering him...

"This is my fault," I moan, holding my head in my hands. I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"Honey, how is this your fault?" she says softly. I shake my head.

"I should have talked to him this morning."

"Hey, we don't know when, where, or why this happened," my friend says. "You can't blame this on anyone until we have the facts."

Oh no. I know what's going to happen next. Jace has told me how fast Izzy can get information. She has connections with people all over New York City. Jace once said he honestly thought she did better work then the FBI.

"We're going back to my apartment," Izzy states.

"Penthouse," I mutter under my breath, which earns me a glare from my friend.

"Whatever," she grumbles.

 **-Superheroes-**

Jace

I drown my whiskey quicker than I probably should. The liquid burns in my throat, and I welcome it with open arms.

You might judge me for drinking at eleven in the morning, but with the huge bomb that was just dropped on me, I can't think of a better activity to participate in.

My friend from the fight club, Jem Carstairs, owns a bar not too far from my place. Brother Zacharias' isn't open to the public until four in the afternoon, but since Will and I are such close friends with this guy, he lets us in whenever we want. There's about six or seven other adult males sitting at the bar at the moment. I guess he opens this up to anyone.

As soon as I walked in, I had made sure I was a good deal away from everyone else. All I need is my thoughts and my drink.

Drinking has always been the main source of comfort for me. Lost a fight? Get drunk. Bored? Get drunk. Have to let loose? Get drunk. And then there are specific problems that require a trip to a bar. Like getting into a fight with a girl I like.

Or finding out that your father was killed while attempting to rob some guy when he was drunk.

I wince, remembering the conversation I had with Mr. Lawyer-Guy.

 _"What do you mean, unfortunate news?" I say, ignoring his advice to sit down. I hear him clear his throat. He hesitates before he talks again._

 _"Your father was found dead in an alley early this morning."_

 _The news hit me like a truck. My father... he can't be dead. I just saw him last night._

 _"You must be mistaken," I say, chuckling. "That wasn't my father."_

 _Harold Turner sighs. "Son, you might be denying it, but it's true. He had his license on him. So unless your father isn't named Stephen, then I'm sorry to inform you that he is in fact deceased."_

 _"You're lying!" I shout into the phone. I get a few looks from people walking by, but I don't care. Right now I need to deal with this man who's lying through his teeth._

 _"Mr. Wayland, I need you to calm down," he says, his voice straining._

 _Not being able to handle this man's bullshit much longer, I hang up the call._

 _As the anger leaves my system, I start to fully process the words that Harold Turner had said._

 _Dead._

 _My father is dead._

Jem walks over from the other side of the bar. Without asking me, he fills my glass again. I give him a thankful look through bloodshot eyes, and take a long swig of the brown liquid.

"You wanna talk about it?" the man questions, his silver eyes trying to read my expression. I just shake my head, rejecting the offer of support. Right now I have no idea what I feel.

At first I didn't want the details, but as soon as I calmed down, I called the lawyer back.

 _"Mr. Wayland, I apologize for any rudeness I presented," is what I'm greeted with when he picks up. "This man was probably a loving father. You needed time to process the information."_

 _I give a humorless laugh. "Loving father? No way. He was a dick who killed my mother and abused me."_

 _Silence on the other line._

 _"I'm sorry to hear that," he finally says. I'm surprised to hear genuine pity in his voice. Usually I don't welcome pity, but somehow now the tone is comforting._

 _"I called for details," I demand, cutting to the chase. I hear shuffling of papers._

 _"Are you sure?" the man asks._

 _"One hundred percent," I reply._

 _The truth was, I really wasn't sure. The real reason I had called was to make sure his death wasn't too horrific._

 _"The police found fingerprints on the cadaver," Harold Turner says in a gruff voice. "Their still trying to analyze the finger prints. From what we can infer, it is almost certain that he was beat up, or in a fight of some sort. There was alcohol in his system; definitely drunk. That may have contributed in the cause of the fight, or the death itself."_

 _"Why did someone beat him up?" I ask._

 _"There was loose change scattered all over the alley. Most likely a failed attempt at robbery."_

 _I let the information sink in once again._

 _"Thank you," I say, my throat dry. Then I hang up._

As I continue to down my drink, I once again analyze the situation. Shouldn't I be glad that my father is dead? He did nothing for me. He made my life a living hell. I made that pretty clear the previous night. So why did I feel so bad?

Maybe because deep down, I knew he was still my father. Maybe because the reality of not having any living parents now is just too much for me to handle. Maybe because I know that his death was partly my fault.

I should have given him a place to stay. Then he wouldn't have tried to rob someone in an alley at three o'clock in the morning when he was dead drunk. If I had even just given him the cash I had at the moment, then he wouldn't be dead.

 _Dead._

I wonder what my mom would tell me if she was here right now. Probably some inspirational shit that would power me through this situation.

 _Every day, every hour_

 _Turn the pain into power_

The melody from my guitar plays on repeat in the back of my mind. I'm sober enough to listen to it though.

From somewhere deep in my memory, I remember a certain moment I shared with my dad. Back when he wasn't beating either me or my mother.

 _"Like this?" I asked, throwing a chubby fist forward, hitting the punching bag._

 _"Yes!" my father exclaims. "Exactly right, Jonathon!"_

 _I turn towards him and grin widely. My father laughs, and picks me up._

 _"Tell me, son," my father starts. "Why did you want me to teach you how to punch?"_

 _My young self thinks for a moment._

 _"I want to be strong like you!" I say finally._

 _A proud look forms in my father's eyes. "Don't worry, Jonathon. One day you'll be strong. Even stronger than me."_

 _My eyes grow wide at his statement. My father once again laughs, ruffles my curls, and sets me back down on the ground._

 _"And if you ever need strength," he continues, crouching down. "You can always find it." He takes a finger and pokes at my chest. "Right here."_

I'm stunned by the day that I remembered. That happened so long ago. I'm surprised I still have that memory. It was one of the last times I saw my father as the calm and caring man that he was. Then he left for war, and when he came back, he was just a shell of who he used to be.

 _"Why do you stay with daddy?" I remember asking my mom one day. She seemed to think long and hard before she answered._

 _"Because he needs me," she finally replied. I scrunched my eyebrows and looked at her._

 _"What do you mean?" I ask. "He hurts you!"_

 _My mother gives me a sad smile. "If I don't care for him, who else will? Jace, honey, he needs to be loved. I need to stay strong for him."_

I snort. It's terrible how her goodness was eventually her demise. If she had just left my father, she would have never been killed by him. Some people would say that this made my mother extremely ignorant and stupid, but I disagree. It made her brave. She was willing to give everything up just to help the man she once loved become himself again.

I always thought that my father was just born a cruel and angry soul. But now I see that isn't the case. Sure, he did absolutely terrible things in his life that can't be forgiven, but he used to be a completely different person.

 _"Goodnight, Jonathon," my father whispers to me as he tucks me in. He hands me my favorite stuffed animal, and is about to exit the room when I stop him._

 _"Daddy, I love you," I say to him. A smile crosses his face._

 _"I love you too, Jonathon," he replies. "Remember, I'll always be with you. No matter what."_

I feel a tear roll down my cheek as I remember the night before my father left for war. I had no real idea what was going on. All I knew was that my father, my hero, was leaving.

Without another word, I set down my drink and walk out of the bar.

 **-Superheroes-**

Clary

"Okay," Izzy says. I turn as I hear the clicking of heels signaling that my friend has entered the kitchen. She's holding her laptop. She sets it down on the island in front of me.

"What's this?" I question, trying to make sense of everything that's on the screen. Izzy gives me a triumphant grin.

"I hacked into Jace's phone system and traced his most recent calls."

I look at the woman, my eyes widening. "Where did you learn to do that?"

Izzy flips her hair over her shoulder, and gives a smirk worthy to rival Jace's. "I have friends."

I roll my eyes and look back at the screen. I see my number a few times, but it appears that the most recent call he made is one that I don't recognize.

"Oh my God!" Izzy squeals, pointing at the second to last number on the list. "I know who that is! Just give me a second."

The black haired beauty whips her phone out and dials the number. She puts it on speaker phone. Both of us eagerly await for someone to pick up.

"Hello?" a male voice finally answers.

"Jem!" Izzy exclaims. I hear a laugh on the other end of the line.

"Well if it isn't Isabelle Lightwood," the man, Jem, says. "How's my favorite fashion designer?"

"Life's been crazy," Izzy gushed. "Same old, same old. But I did just recently fly to Berlin? Have you ever-"

"Excuse me," I cut in loudly. "We called because we were wondering if you've seen Jace around?"

"And who might this be?" Jem questions. I roll my eyes at his tone.

"Clary Morgenstern, Jace's girlfriend. Now if you don't mind-"

"Jace settled down?" Jem exclaims.

"I know right!" Izzy says, her tone even more enthusiastic than before. "It took a while, but these two are, like, madly in love."

"And that's why I would like to know where my boyfriend is before my head explodes!" I growl.

"Don't worry, sweetie," the man assures me. "He's right over-"

I hear the sound of a door being opened, and then Jem stops short.

"He was sitting right there a minute ago!" he exclaims.

"Where is 'here'?" I ask. Izzy turns to me.

"Jem owns Brother Zacharias'" she explains.

"That tavern near Pandemonium?"

"That's the one!"

Brother Zacharias' is a bar known for all the thugs that go there for a drink. I guess it doesn't really surprise me that it would be one of Jace's hang out spots. But what does surprise me, is that he's at a tavern before noon.

"Did he say anything to you?" I ask, deciding to take advantage of the conversation.

"No," Jem huffs. "But he did look pretty damn upset about something. But he wouldn't talk."

At this, I start to get really worried. What could have his father done that caused him to get so wrecked?

Thinking back, I try to remember any signs or signals that he was either angry or upset in the time that I saw him. Even when concentrating really hard, I can't think of anything that seemed out of the usual for him. In fact, he seemed even happier than usual.

I look back at the computer screen and the unknown number. The evidence starts to click in place.

"Izzy, hang up," I mutter. She gives me a strange look.

"Jem, I'll talk to you later."

I grab the phone from her and hang up the call.

"What the hell?" she hisses. I glare at her and start looking through her kitchen for a paper and a pen. When I find them, I bring them back to the island.

As I copy down the number, I fill Izzy in. "Jace was totally fine when I saw him this morning. He seemed better than ever. But then he disappeared to take that call. And he never came back."

Izzy gives me a look that signals me to continue.

"So whoever called him and whatever they said caused him to get all emo."

Izzy's eyes widen. "Then what are we waiting for? Call the fucking number!"

 **-Superheroes-**

Jace

Stumbling into the alley, I use the wall as support. The drink is getting to me, and now I can't walk straight. I've been tripping my way through the back roads of Manhattan since I left the tavern. Central Park isn't too far away. I figured that out pretty quickly. Even when I'm drunk, I can still recognize the familiar area near the park.

I trip over something, and barely escape a nasty fall. I lean up against the cool brick wall. My vision clouds for a second, and when I can see again, there's a man in front of me.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asks, concern in his words. I kind of recognize the voice, but I can't place it. My vision is still blurry, and I manage to make out a lanky, tall man with something on his back. But that's all I get.

"Get the hell away from me, man," I slur, trying to make my tone threatening.

"Jace, come on. You're drunk. Let me help you."

I frown. How does this guy know my name?

"I don't know you. Get the fuck away!" I growl, attempting to straighten up. I end up almost tipping over. But before I can fall, the man grabs my shoulders and puts me upright. I immediately shrug him off and push him hard in the chest.

"Don't fucking touch me!" I yell at him.

"Come on, Jace," he sighs, his tone becoming harsher. "Where's Clary?"

"You trying to get with my girl?" I slur. My drunk mind can't fully comprehend what he's saying.

"What? No!" he exclaims. "Just shut up and lean on me. We don't want to attract the attention of any cops or-"

The man goes to help support me, and I push him off. Hard. He falls back, almost hitting his head on a nearby metal dumpster.

"You wanna fight?" I growl, clenching my fists.

"Jace-" he starts to say as he stand up.

I take advantage of his state, and punch him straight in the face. I hear a crack, but not one of a nose. More likely a now smashed pair of glasses. The man hesitates for a second, but then swings at me. Surprisingly, he catches my jaw. I stumble back, the wall catching me. Immediately, I launch myself back at the guy. I knock him flat on his back, and start punching him. Again. And again. And again.

"Come on, Jace!" he manages to say in between my attacks. He's trying to fight back, and every now and then he gets a good hit in, but I'm clearly overpowering him.

"Hey!" I hear a new voice enter the conversation. I look up at the mouth of the alley.

Even when I'm drunk I can recognize a cop.

I look back down at the man under me. His face is unrecognizable. Bruises line up and down his arms. His eye is swollen shut, and his nose is broken. His mouth is bleeding profusely.

I stagger to my feet and face the cop. Then I raise my arms above my head.

 **A/N: Ohhhhh Shit. Told you it was going to get interesting!**

 **I'm really impressed that so many of you predicted the next big thing in the story. Congratulations. You get a sticker.**

 **I really let my emotions flow during part of the chapter. I remember I got one review at the beginning of this story asking me if I could focus on Jace more now, since I focused the story on Clary in the beginning. And once I did, I couldn't stop. It's extremely... I don't want to say fun, but _interesting_ to write this way from Jace's POV. Jace is this strong and snarky character for most of the Mortal Instruments series. Of course not all of it, but having him wallow in tragedy is something that I've been wanting to do for a long time. **

**I love you guys so much. That's why I made this chapter longer than usual.**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

Clary

"New York City Legal Department," a woman greets me on the other line. "How may I assist you today?"

Immediately a million questions run through my mind. What the hell is Jace doing calling the city's legal department?

"Um..." I stutter, trying to figure out what to say. "I-"

"Ma'am," the lady says, a tone of annoyance in her voice. "If we can't help you-"

Izzy plucks the phone out of my hand and holds it up to her ear.

"Yes, hello. This is Isabelle Lightwood," she chirps. There's a pause, and then a grin appears on my friend's face. "Yes!" Another pause. "Of course! Let me just-"

As her head swivels around the room, I catch her eye and send a pointed look. Izzy rolls her eyes, but stops whatever she's doing.

"Sorry, I'll have to take care of that another time," she says.

"Put it on speaker!" I hiss. Izzy complies, taking the phone away from her ear and setting it down on the kitchen island.

"I was wondering if you had any documentation of any calls to Jace Wayland, and for what purpose," Izzy says. Impressed with her wording, I give her a thankful nod.

The woman hesitates. "I'm sorry Ms. Lightwood, but I'm not allowed to share that information," she replies. My shoulders slump in defeat, but it doesn't look like Izzy is giving up so soon.

"Please," Izzy says. "It's urgent."

"Miss, that is classified information." I can tell she's starting to lose her cool. I signal Izzy to hang up the call, but I lose the staring contest between us.

"Tell you what," Izzy argues. "If you give us this tiny little bit of information, then I'll give you one thousand dollars worth of merchandise from my clothing line."

There's silence on the other end of the phone. I hold my breath, waiting for the response.

"Please hold," the woman mutters.

A couple minutes later, the lady is back on the line.

"I won't be able to give you extensive information-"

"Doesn't matter," I cut in. "Tell us whatever you can."

The woman sighs. "Jace Wayland was called by my boss, Harold Turner, this morning over the information of his recently deceased father-"

" _What_ _?_ " I screech loudly.

"His father was found dead in an alley early this morning. Most likely murder."

My head is spinning. This makes sense. This is why he went drinking. This is why he ran out on us. And knowing Jace, he's most likely feeling extremely guilty about the situation. And according to his mood this morning, he most likely stood up to his father.

I barely hear Izzy exchange contact information with the receptionist in a shaky voice. I'm still trying to place all the puzzle pieces in place.

An arm wraps around my shoulder, and the tall girl pulls me into her side. We both stand there in silence, silently praying that Jace is okay.

We're knocked back into reality when Izzy's phone rings. She makes no move to go answer it, so I walk over to where she left it on the counter. I gulp when I see the caller ID: Simon Lewis. I haven't talked to him in a while, but I shouldn't leave him in the dark about this situation.

I answer the call. "Simon, now isn't really a great time," I sigh.

"Clary?" Simon gasps. Immediately I can tell something isn't right. He seems out of breath, and I can make the sound of sirens in the background. "Are you okay? Where are you?"

"Hey, hey, calm down," I say soothingly. "I'm alright. What's wrong?"

Simon pauses. "Clary, it's Jace."

"You saw him?" I exclaim. "Where are you? Is he okay?"

"Tell me what you think," Simon growls. I guess he holds his phone out, because I can now hear the yelling and sounds of emergency vehicles much clearer.

"Oh my God," I moan. "What happened?"

"Do you want me to tell you what happened?" anger rising in his tone. "Your _boyfriend_ got dead beat drunk and beat me up in an alley!"

My breathing becomes shallow. Izzy walks over to me, now interested in what conversation is taking place.

"Where is he right now?" I whisper, even though I know the answer.

"Cops showed up. He's off to jail at the moment."

I cover my mouth with my hand, trying to stiffle the sobs.

"What the fuck is happening?" Izzy asks. When I don't respond, Izzy grabs the phone from me and puts it on speaker.

"You better tell me what is happening right this instant," she demands viciously.

As Simon fills her in, my shock turns into anger. When Izzy is done crying over her boyfriend, asking him if he's okay and whatnot, I take the phone from her.

"Tell me where you are," I growl. " _Now."_

 ** _-_ Superheroes-  
**

Simon had informed us that he was being taken to the hospital. He had initially refused, but Izzy had told him she would cover the bills. She had also agreed to pay any bail that was required for Jace to get out of wherever they hauled his sorry ass away to. I had told her she didn't have to, but through her many tears she had informed me that Jace was some of the only family that she had. And that she owed him from so many years ago when he got Alec out of a bad place.

As we pull up to the hospital, I struggle to contain the anger that's threatening to boil over like an active volcano. I slam the car door, and don't even wait for Izzy as I storm towards the entrance of the hospital.

Izzy does the talking, since I'm about to slap anyone who tries to talk to me, and we're directed to a room.

When we find the correct location, I throw open the door. I'm greeted with the sight of a startled Simon. He has bruises all over his face, and a cast on his left arm. I walk over to his hospital bed, and without any consent whatsoever, I carefully lay down next to him and wrap my arms around my friend.

"Clary-" he tries to say, but I cut him off.

"Shut the fuck up," I mumble. "This is nice."

I close my eyes, and my best friend relaxes into me. He's much larger than me, like most people on this planet, and I love how familiar this is.

I hear Izzy pull a chair up to beside Simon's bed. At that moment I realize how selfish I'm being, but Izzy doesn't say anything. One of Simon's arms leaves me, and I'm guessing that it went straight to his girlfriend.

We stay like this for a while, until a nurse walks in. The glare that crosses her face causes me to roll off the bed and onto the floor. Izzy just stands up and puts the chair back, while I stagger upwards and rub my back.

Simon, Izzy, and I explain to the nurse exactly what was going on. Then we say our final goodbye's to him (or kisses in Izzy's case) and get the heck out of there.

"Next stop, Manhattan Detention Complex," Izzy says cheerlessly as she starts the car.

 **-Superheroes-**

It takes a couple hours for Izzy to fill out all the paperwork and take care of the money. Luckily this woman has more money than she knows what to do with. Or else we would be in serious trouble. I wait in the lobby of the complex the entire time, planning my speech for when I see Jace.

I was thinking of hugging him, comforting him of his father's death, then giving a short lecture about getting drunk and beating up my friends. But all that flies out the window when I see him exit the office with Izzy.

I jump up and quickly stalk over to him. He has a look of guilt on his face, along with a bruise on his cheek.

But that doesn't stop me from delivering a hard slap to his face.

The sound echoes throughout the nearly empty room. Then I stand on my tiptoes, grab his face, and plant a hard kiss on his lips.

It all happens too fast for Jace to react to any of it. It's only when I take a step back and glare at him with my arms crossed over my chest does a scowl appear on his face.

"What the hell?" he growls. The tone he has would usually cause me to take a step back, but today I get in his face.

"Don't 'what the hell' me, mister," I say, poking a finger into his solid chest. I have to crane my neck for him to see my murderous glare. He looks pretty shocked at my tone.

"Clary-" he tries to explain, but I throw my hand up and signal him to stop.

"First of all, I'm glad you're okay and I'm sorry about your dad." A pained expression appears on his face, but it's quickly replaced by a scowl. "But I'm seriously mad right now. You got drunk and now my best friend is in the hospital!" I yell. I look up at him and soften my tone a bit. "I thought you were better than that."

Jace runs a hand through his curls. "Look, I'm sorry. The news hit me hard, and I needed a drink."

"You of all people should know that drinking is not the answer to every problem!" I scold.

"Well what was I supposed to do?" he snaps back. "Come to you?"

His response hits me hard, and I take a step back. My silence is enough to tell him that's exactly what I had in mind.

Jace's face holds a look of surprise, and it quickly turns to guilt.

"Baby, I'm sorry," he says. I avert my gaze and shake my head.

"Just don't," I reply quietly.

I feel bad for Izzy who has been standing near the scene of a couple's argument, frozen in place. I turn to her and give her smile. She gets my message, and wastes no time high tailing it out of here.

"You could have at least called," I say cooly, turning back to face my boyfriend. "Izzy and I were worried sick."

Being the smart guy he is, Jace says nothing. He just stands there and hangs his head.

"If drinking is the solution to all you're problems, and every time you get wasted you do something extremely stupid, then I'm not sure you're the safest person to be around," I state.

Immediately Jace's head snaps up. There's a panicked expression on his face.

"Wh-what are you saying?" he stutters.

Pain engulfs me as I say my next words: "I'm moving out, Jace."

His eyes widen. It kills me as I watch the emotion wash over his features.

"Clary, come one," he begs. "You can't move out! Is this the same as breaking up with me? Where are you even going? Izzy's?"

The flood of questions knocks me a little off guard, and I decide the answer the last two questions.

"I'm not breaking up with you," I say softly. "I just need a little time."

"Like a break?" he practically wails. "Those never end well!"

"And Izzy is going to Hong Kong next week," I swallow. "So I'm going back to my parent's house."

The golden man's expression immediately turns from desperation to anger.

"No. Fucking. Way," he growls. "What the hell are you thinking?"

"My parents apologized," I explain. "My brother is most likely gone by now. He never stays for more than two weeks. I'll still avoid them, so don't worry about me."

Jace looks like he's about to fight me again, but he closes his mouth and slumps his shoulders. He knows there's no way he can win this fight. Not after what he just put me through. I'm able to call all the shots here.

"Clary, just know that I love you, okay?" My eyes widen at his words. Since when was he in love with me?

"I love you, too," I whisper, my throat dry.

I take a step closer to him, grab his shirt collar, and pull him down closer to my eye level.

"And don't even _think_ about showing up at Pandemonium during my shift," I add. "I will have security throw you out before you can even order a drink."

And with that, I plant one last harsh kiss onto his lips, turn around, and stalk out of the building.

 **A/N: What's going to happen next? Haven't exactly figured it all out yet, so if you have any suggestions feel free to let me know. Because I have a little bit of a block.**

 **Okay, so I write a ton of random stuff in these author's notes. Today I just wanted to tell you guys HOW FUCKING HARD IT IS TO HAVE A CRUSH THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO READ. I literally can't tell what the hell is going on inside his head. Sometimes I'm like, He could be interested. And other times I'm like, He totally likes this other girl. So yeah. Just a personal problem.**

 **I love you all so much! Thank you for sticking with me! I'm so glad that this story is doing so well!**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

Clary

My hand shakes as I rapidly knock on the door of my old home. Almost as soon as my knuckles leave the wood, the apartment entrance swings open. My mom stands there with a shocked expression adorning her features. Then she rushes forward and pulls me in for a tight embrace.

I was never used to my parent's displays of affections. Usually I didn't get a smile, let alone a hug. It feels awkward to be in this position, but I push that weird feeling aside and focus on the moment.

"Clary!" I hear a male voice exclaim from behind my mom. I pull away from her and look over her shoulder. My father stands there looking completely astonished.

"Hi, mom. Hi, dad." The words taste foreign in my mouth. But I swallow the bitterness and do my best to sound excited, or at least a little bit happy.

As both of my parents engulf me into yet another hug, I'm only thinking about one thing.

 _I miss Jace._

Was what I did right? Should I have left him on his own like that? What if he hurts himself? Or goes out and does something else incredibly stupid?

There's a part of me that wants to pull away from my parents, flip them off, grab my suitcase and run back to Jace. The weak part of me is begging me to let go of all logic and reasoning and just go get what I want.

But the other part of me is saying that this is the best for him. And for me. I don't want him to hurt me, and it's apparent that I can't handle his anger. He has Izzy, Alec, and even Simon to help him through this rough time. As soon as the big problems are taken care of, _then_ I can run back to him.

So I throw all thoughts of Jace out of the way, and focus on the happy exclamations of my parents. My dad takes my suitcase out of my hands and sets it inside. My mom ushers me through the doorway while yapping about something. I'm not really paying attention.

I look around the apartment that I've been away from for almost two months. It doesn't look too different, but something seems kind of... off. My brows furrow as I look around, trying to place exactly what's wrong.

Then my mom opens her mouth and hollers, "Jonathon! You're sister's back!"

Cold shivers are sent up my spine. I do another look around at the apartment, and piece the clues together.

The stack of dishes by the sink is more than two people need. And my parents are complete neat freaks, so it's not like they forgot to do them. The futon in the living room seems to have become a permanent bed. The coat closet is slightly ajar, and I can see that it's turned into my brother's clothing closet.

I whirl around when I hear the sound of a door opening. I watch Jonathon emerge from my room- _my room_ \- and join us in the living room. There's a cold expression on his face, but it's quickly replaced my one of fake relief.

"'Oh, Clary!" he gasps, rushing forward. His arms wrap around me, a little too harshly to be considered a hug. I refuse to respond, and try not to wince. He pulls back and looks over me.

"I'm so glad you're okay!" Jonathon says, an underline of danger in his tone. "I was beginning to worry. Didn't want you to be gone too long, right?"

I don't glare at him, but I keep my face neutral and stone cold. Needing to show him that he doesn't get to me, I simply nod my head and turn around. I retrieve my suitcase from a corner of the living room, and start to head towards my room.

"I think we'll go out tonight!" I hear my mother exclaim. "As celebration for our family being whole again!"

Slamming the door open to my room, and quickly step inside and shut it just as harshly.

"It was never whole in the first place," I mutter, flopping onto the bed.

Maybe this wasn't the greatest idea.

 **-Superheroes-**

After almost ten minutes of mild arguing with my parents, I was able to get family dinner night postponed to this Saturday. Today is Thursday and Magnus wants me working late tonight.

So that's what brought me here, standing in front of my mirror in my bartending uniform. I quickly throw my hair into a messy bun and carelessly apply makeup. Then I grab my bag, and go to exit my room. I fling the door open, and I'm completely taken by surprise to see my brother standing there with a wicked grin on his face.

"What," I hiss through clenched teeth. The bastard just chuckles and leans up against the door frame, blocking any escape route.

"You know," he says thoughtfully, "I was truly surprised that the only person you could find to hook up with is my mortal enemy."

My blood turns to ice. My fists clench and I stumble back a little bit.

"Wh-what are you talking about?" I stammer. His smirk is evil.

"I've got ears, Clarissa," is my only answer.

I try to calm my heart rate. I swallow, and bravely shoot Jonathon a pointed look.

"Well if you don't mind, I have a job to get to so-"

I try to slip around him, but his large hand grips my forearm. I wince at the pressure applied and try to pull out of his grasp.

"Let's not forget who's in charge here," Jonathon snarls.

He releases my arm, only to deliver a backhand across my face. Gasping, I stumble back. Cradling my cheek in my hand, I keep my eyes on the floor. I hear my brother laugh devilishly, than shortly after I hear him slam the front door.

Quickly, I scramble back into my room and grab my concealer. The mark on my face is bright red, and I do my best to cover the bruise that hasn't formed yet.

I struggle to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill over. I've been reunited with my family for a couple hours, and the abuse has already started.

The pain I feel is quickly replaced by rage. I throw down my makeup, grab my bag, and practically run out of the apartment. Stumbling down the stairs, I long for fresh air. But even when I jump onto the Manhattan sidewalk, it still feels like I'm suffocating.

"I need to get out of this place," I say to no one.

After checking the time, I realize I'm going to be late if I don't hurry up. Running through the uneven and crowded city streets in high heels is something I'm too used to. Luckily most people see a desperate, short, red headed girl ready to mow anyone down in her path, and they get out of the way. Those who don't, well, let's just say I never stop to apologize.

Breathing heavily, I finally arrive at my destination. I quickly flash the bouncer my employee ID card and run into the club.

Damn, it's crowded.

Pandemonium does half priced Thursdays, so it's one of the worst days to work late. So many people go in and out, most of the time I don't get to sit down until my shift is completely over.

With that happy thought, I make my way to my side of the bar, throw my bag down, and get to work.

Strobe lights flash, music blares, people laugh, but the only thing I have focus on right now is doing my job. Unfortunately, this proves harder than it sounds. Because there are so many memories here.

My eyes wander to the dance floor. They linger on the spot where Jace beat up that dick of celebrity who was creeping me out. Even though at the time it was a little too much to handle, I was still touched that he would defend my honor like that.

Snapping back to the present, I scramble to grab the right liquor to make this girl's Sex on the Beach.

Mmmmm... that's what I need right now.

As I make her drink, I remember a conversation that Jace and I had shortly after getting into our relationship.

 _"So when are we gonna... ya know," the golden man asks, wiggling his eyebrows. At first I'm confused, but I quickly understand. My cheeks start to burn and I hug my arms to my body, completely embarrassed._

 _"What?" he teases. I giggle, lowering my head so my curls cover my face. Jace reaches out and brushes them behind my ear. He tilts my head up. I'm met with his shining eyes. Jace observes my grinning face, and lets go of my jaw._

 _"I'm so confused," he states. And that sends me over the edge. I start cracking up. Laughing so hard, that my sides hurt and I almost roll off the bed we're stationed on. Soon, Jace joins in with my ridiculous laughter._

 _"You wanna have..._ sex _," I'm laughing so hard I can barely get the word out. "With me? Are you crazy?"_

 _Jace's laughter quickly dies. I calm myself, confused of why he stopped. I look up and see an almost angry expression on his face._

 _"Why are you so surprised?" he says softly. I cock my head to the side and give him a questioning look._

 _"Well, I mean," I stumble on my words, "I guess I've just never been good enough, you know? And doing 'the deed'," I wiggle my eyebrows at the word, getting a smile out of Jace, "is kind of like perfect love, you know?"_

 _He's quiet, as if thinking about something._

 _"That's how you view it?" he asks. Not scared or embarrassed any more, I solemnly nod my head._

 _"Yeah, why?"_

 _His expression is almost pained. Jace's mouth opens, as if he's going to tell me something, but he closes it and shakes his head._

 _"No. I don't want to talk about it," he mutters._

 _Grabbing his hand, I squeeze it gently and look into his golden eyes. "Jace, I told you before. You can tell me anything. I promise I won't run away, or hide under the bed. Okay?"_

 _A couple moments later, he sighs. "It's just that... I've never really seen it as an emotional thing. Only physical. A distraction. A way to pass time. It was never an act of love, more like one of personal gain."_

 _His gaze breaks away from mine, and an ashamed expression is on his face. I reach out and turn his face so I can look him in the eyes._

 _"But you're with me now," I say. "And I'm with you. This is probably the most emotional thing I've done in my life."_

Lost in memory, I fill up the glass too far on accident. After a quick rude remark from the girl I'm serving, I hand her the drink and set off to my next thirsty customer.

Throughout my next hours of work, my mind stays on that conversation. Jace's words almost fascinate me now. A way of distraction. To take up time in the day. To get rid of the pain. The pain...

The throbbing on my cheek I haven't noticed until now hurts like a bitch. And now all I want is that pain to disappear.

I get what Jace was saying. About how focusing on other things rather than your own problems makes them easier to deal with. So I decide to work my ass off tonight, maybe get a few more tips than usual. That will hopefully get rid of the pain that my brother has caused.

People filter in and out. I barely notice who I'm talking to anymore. Thankfully it's too loud to create any small talk with the people I see. Since it's so crowded tonight, it's all hands on deck. I'm not serving people that I know today.

"Oh my God! You're Jace's girlfriend!" I hear a male voice exclaim loudly. My head immediately snaps up to meet a familiar face.

"Will!" I greet. Glancing around, I notice that at the moment the bar isn't too busy. I set down my towel and send a friendly smile.

"Nice to see you again, Clary," he says. "I'd like to introduce you to my lovely lady, Tessa."

For the first time I notice the pretty and delicate tall brunette. Her face is kind and youthful, but she's older than me by a few years. Her calm and quiet demeaner doesn't seem to fit Will's boisterous personality. But even after only seeing them for a few moments, I can tell that these two people are really in love.

Tessa disconnects her hand from Will's and holds it out to me. "It's very nice to meet you, Clary!"

I can't help but return her warm smile.

"So," I smile brightly, "can I get you anything?"

I start making the strawberry daiquiri and the rusty nail they both ordered. As I mix the drinks, I talk a little bit more with my new found friends.

Handing them the drinks, I'm suddenly stopped by Tessa's hand on my harm.

"What happened to your face?" she questions, a concerned look in her eye. I try to remain calm, hoping that I can shrug this one off.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say smoothly. Will bends down, trying to get a better view of my face.

"Are you sure? What's that on your cheek?"

"Probably just the lighting," I say quickly, dodging the hand that he reaches out. Luckily this is a pretty valid excuse. The flashing lights in the club can cause some weird shadows.

I watch Tessa and Will exchange worried glances. Pretending to oblivious to it, I move down the bar to help someone else.

I don't see them for the rest of the night. The rest of my shift passes by pretty quickly. Barely talking to anyone, I help usher the last few drinkers out of the club. And with that, at three o'clock in the morning, my work is finally done. A wave of exhaustion washes over me as I slump into a vacant bar stool; my first break for the entire night.

Helping Maia clean up the bar takes about twenty minutes. Thankfully there wasn't too much of a mess left from the crowd.

Grabbing my bag, I walk towards the exit of the club. I decide the pain in my feet isn't worth it, so I take off my shoes and carry them. Even in the early early morning, the city is far from asleep. I pray that there aren't any people I'd have to run from. Without shoes on, that would be pretty painful.

I reach the apartment building. I rush up the flights of stairs. When I reach the right door, I silently open it. Sighing in relief when I notice no one is waiting for me, I tip toe through the kitchen to reach my room.

Slowly closing my door, I can only relax when it's fully closed. I throw my bag onto the ground, and flop onto my bed. Closing my eyes, I revel in how good it feels to just _relax._

It's only when I take a deep breath that I notice I'm laying on something uncomfortable. Scrambling upwards, I squint through my tired eyes and see that I had planted myself right on top of a now crumpled letter.

A yawn escapes my lips as I lift it up. The light from the city makes my small room bright enough to make out the lettering on the envelope: _Brooklyn Art Institute._

My exhaustion quickly disappears, replaced by rapid butterflies. I straighten up and stare at the envelope. The contents inside hold my entire future. My life depends on what is written on this letter.

Hands shaking, I carefully flatten it and rip open the envelope. I slowly take out the paper inside. I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to look at what it says.

Eventually I work up the courage to open my eyes. They fall on the words in the letter:

 _Dear Ms. Morgenstern,_

 _We regret to inform you-_

 **A/N: I can't believe it. I'm actually almost done with this story. Maybe four or five more chapters, or even less than that.**

 **I'm so sorry that it's been FOREVER since I've updated, but school and sports have been crazy. Yes, I am a dedicated person who is hoping to get to college. So sue me.**

 **Thank you for sticking with me for this entire time. I'm really thankful for all of you!**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

Jace

"Come on," I hear Izzy plead on the other end of the line. Sighing, I switch the phone to my other ear.

"For the last time," I grunt, "I don't feel up for it."

"Quit being such a douche!" my friend screeches. Her choice of words surprise me, and I furrow my brows.

"And what do you mean by that?" I ask.

"Jace, it's been a week since Clary moved back with her parents," Izzy tells me. "You've been mopey-mopey for too long. Just come to my apartment and we'll have some fun, okay?"

Even though I honestly don't want to, I know that Izzy won't let it rest until I give some evidence I'm not falling into an emotional hole. So mustering up as much strength as I can, I agree to come.

After much squealing and babble of plans for tonight, I'm able to hang up the phone. Putting it back into my pocket, I slump back on the park bench. Leaning back, I let the sun shine on my face. I try to ignore the sounds of the city and just focus on the place where I am right now.

My phone buzzes, and I eagerly whip it back out and check the text. Disappointed when I see it's just Izzy confirming the time I should come over, I dejectedly put my phone down.

I haven't heard from Clary since she decided we should take a break. A week without her has been absolutely torture. Every so often I find myself wanting to call her, or stop by Pandemonium during her shift, but I know that it wouldn't end well.

A smirk appears on my lips as I think about what she would say if I showed up at her work. The red head would stare at me for a few moment, send a death glare my way, literally drop everything she was doing, and storm up to be furiously. Then Clary would start yelling at me, probably hit me a couple of times, and I would try to keep a straight face as I watch her try to become as tall as possible.

God, I miss her.

Sighing, I run a hand through my hair. I lean forward on the bench and focus my eyes on a couple walking through the park. I watch them as they laugh and continue to talk as they stroll through the greenery. A feeling of longing hits me right in the gut.

Deciding that I should probably get home, I stand up. Stretching out for a second, I then start my walk back to my shabby apartment building.

 **-Superheroes-**

As I walk into Izzy's penthouse, I immediately regret it. Expecting it to be a small get together with just a few other people, I dressed pretty casually. But I'm now cursing myself for not listening to the details of tonight. Because I'm now standing in the doorway of a fancy cocktail party, wearing jeans and a leather jacket.

I see someone pushing through the crowd towards me. Izzy's emerges, wearing a deep blue floor length gown with a few more than necessary less than modest cuts. After doing a quick once over, she grabs my arm and practically drags me upstairs. I notice a few people looking at us, puzzled, but Izzy just smiles and grits her teeth.

When we reach the top of the staircase, Izzy pulls me into her bedroom. Slamming the door, the brace myself for the yelling.

I'm surprised when she just sighs. "I knew you weren't listening on the phone. The fact that you didn't protest against coming to a fancy party like this was a red flag."

I watch my friend as she stomps over to her closet and throws the door open. I'm surprised to see a perfectly good suit hanging on the back of the door.

"Here," she says, bringing it over to me. "I keep a few suits here in case last minute plans with Simon come up."

I wince when the man's name is mentioned. Apparently he's still recovering, but Izzy told me he should be released any day now.

"Thanks, Iz," I manage to choke out. Izzy just gives me a soft smile and a wink, then she struts out.

I stand there for a few moments, looking at the apparel in front of me. As I look at this suit that probably costed more than my rent, I can't help but realize that I've never wore a suit in my life.

Not even to my mom's funeral.

Finally deciding to get changed, I slip out of my casual attire and throw on this more appropriate outfit. Grabbing a comb out of my jacket pocket, I tousle my hair to perfection. I slip the comb into my back pocket, take a deep breath, and go to exit Izzy's room.

Silently, I walk down the staircase. Luckily no one seems to notice me as I descend. I'm able to slip into the crowd of chatting people easily. As I slowly walk around, I grab a glass of champagne. Downing it quickly, I'm not able to care about my manners.

I look around the room, searching for a familiar face. I'm surprised to see my cousin, Will, holding the hand of a tall and pale brunette. Making my way over to them, I'm able to figure out that this lady is Tessa.

"Jace!" he calls out as soon as he sees me. He lets go of his lady's hand and walks over to me. A smile breaks out on my face as we embrace. "Haven't seen you in a while, cuz," he laughs.

"Nice to see you too, Will," I chuckle, letting go. I turn towards the brunette, who is smiling warmly.

"You must be Jace," she says, smiling. I nod, not really sure what to do. I haven't met girls in this kind of setting before. Should I kiss her hand? Or is that to weird?

So instead, I just say, "And you must be Tessa. It's good to meet you."

We stand in an awkward circle of silence for a couple moments, before Tessa clasps her hands together.

"Well!" she declares. "I need another drink. I'll be back in a minute."

And with that, she walks off. This just leaves Will and I.

"So," Will says after a little while. "Izzy told me what happened with your girlfriend."

"Please don't bring it up," I groan. "This last week has been fucking painful."

"Hey, no swearing!" Will exclaims. "One of these old rich people could hear you and have us thrown out. And that would be a shame, because these shrimp are amazing."

My cousin points to the small tray of food set on the table in front of him.

"And plus, since you're out of a relationship, you can use this night to try to find a sugar daddy."

I snort at the idea.

"Did I hear snorting?" a feminine voice says from behind. I look to see that Tessa has returned, but with Izzy.

"Yeah, Jace, not very lady like," my friend teases.

 _What did I get myself into?_ I think as I reach and grab a shrimp from Will's plate.

Deciding that the only way I'll be able to get through tonight is if I keep my mouth shut, I listen as the three people around converse. I try to pay attention, but all I can think about is how much these damn dress shoes hurt. I need to get out of here. Sit down for a second.

"I need to, um..." I stutter as everyone turns towards me. "Bathroom," I mutter. Then I turn around and quickly walk through the crowd of people. But instead of going to bathroom, I slip out the front door of the penthouse.

Making sure the locks are undone and I'll be able to get back in, I close the door behind me. Now I'm standing in a narrow hallway, directly across from an elevator.

Taking my shoes off, I let out a sigh at the feeling of my freed feet. Then I lean up against the door, closing my eyes and relaxing.

The sudden sound of the elevator dinging startles me for a second. But I don't bother to open my eyes and look at whoever's there. It's only when I hear a strangled gasp that I bother to look.

My heart stops.

Her skin seems paler than usual. Her wild red hair is untamed and free, framing her face. Her emerald eyes are tinted red. That's when I notice the tear tracks on her face, along with the piece of paper she's tightly clenching in her hands.

"J-Jace?" Clary stammers, her eyes widening. Watching her quickly wipe away the tears from her face, I'm too stunned to do or say anything.

We stare at each other for what seems like a lifetime. The more and more time passes, the more and more whole I feel. It's been too long since we've seen each other face to face.

Clary clears her throat. "What's going on in there?" she questions meekly, gesturing to the door I'm still leaning up against.

I quickly stand up straight, try to smooth out my suit, and hurriedly run a hand through my hair.

"In here?" I start to babble, "Oh, Izzy's having a cocktail party. Fancy one. You might not want to go in there looking like that."

Clary's eyes bug out of her head as she glances down at the casual outfit she has on. _Wait, what?_ What the hell just came out of my mouth?

"I mean, just because everyone is kind of dressed up," I desperately try to explain. "I showed up and Izzy pulled me upstairs and made me put on this suit. I didn't mean that you don't look presentable- I mean, you look beautiful!"

The words are spilling out of my mouth, and I can't seem to stop them. First I insult her appearance, and now I'm calling her beautiful? What is wrong with me?

I feel my face getting red, and I try to calm myself down. But as I look at Clary, worried on what her reaction to my ramble is, I'm surprised to see a little smirk on her face. All previous signs of tears or being uncomfortable have vanished.

Soon my own embarrassment disappears, and my face takes on a small smile.

"It's good to see you too, Jace," Clary says shyly. Even though she doesn't seem mad at me, there is still a hint of coldness in her voice. I don't blame her. This run in seems a little too soon and coincidental.

"Well," I swallow, "the party's in here."

I fumble with the door knob a little before I successfully open the door. Silently cursing myself for my actions, I can't help but watch the small red head proceed through the doorway.

And that's when I realize that something is horribly wrong.

Clary's usual confident and straightforward stride is replaced by a quiet, hesitant, and unsure stance. Her demeanor, instead of happy and light as I'm used to seeing it, is somehow clouded and dark.

I'm too invested in my thoughts that before I can ask her anything, Clary has disappeared into the crowd.

"Hey, Jace!" I hear Will come up to me. "Was that your lady I just saw?"

Not sure how to respond to that question, I just shrug my shoulders and continue to scan the penthouse looking for her.

"You know, Tessa and I saw her the other night," he says thoughtfully. Not really paying attention to his story, I tune him out. Will continues to talk, but soon he says something that sends a chill down my spine.

"She had some kind of ugly mark on her face," my cousin says, crinkling his nose. "We pointed it out, but she denied it. Kind of pointless, really. It-"

I whip around to face Will. I feel blood rushing to my face as I clench my fists.

"Morgenstern," I growl.

Taking out my phone, I walk away from Will and start pushing through the crowd. I need to see her. I need to talk to her. Because for once in my life, I have a plan. Not just a plan to find her and bring her back to me, but a plan to get out of this hell of a city and away from our horrible lives. The idea had been festering in my brain for a couple weeks now, but this horrible turn of events seems to have finally lit the spark.

Izzy picks up.

"I'm kind of in the middle of a _very_ important conversation at the moment," she hisses. I hear muffled sobs in the background of the call, and I know that must be Clary.

Hanging up, I know where she is now.

Shimmying through the crowd, I make my way to the staircase. Taking the steps two at a time, I finally reach the top and Izzy's bedroom door. As I catch my breath, I hear quiet sobs coming from the other side of the door.

I don't bother to knock. I slam open the door and take in the sight of Izzy and Red. Clary is knee deep in a pile of tissues as Izzy tries to comfort her. Neither of them look up upon my arrival.

I don't dare to say anything. I quietly watch the two girls, until finally Izzy picks her head up. Then she stands up and quietly says, "I'll leave you two alone."

She gets up and walks out of the room.

Now it's just me and Clary.

For many days I had been wondering what our great reunion would be like. We would both be laughing as my girl ran across the room and jumped into my arms. Then we would share a long passionate kiss. Pop open a bottle of champagne, maybe. Just enjoy each other for a night. _All_ of each other.

But this grand reunion is nothing like my fictional fantasy. Instead of laughing, both of us are heartbroken. Instead of her running to me, I cautiously approach her from the other side of the room. And instead of a kiss, I simply sit down next to her and pull her body close to my chest.

And it's better than my dream. Because this, is real.

"I didn't get in," she finally whispers after a long time. It takes me a second, but the realization comes crashing down on me.

"Shhh..." I say softly into her curls. "It's okay."

"I didn't get in," she sobs again, louder this time. Clary points to a shredded up piece of paper on the floor.

I don't respond. I just hold her until she gets all of her tears out. Her head is buried into my shoulder, and I'm gently rocking her while having a steady hold on her hip.

"What am I going to do now?" Clary says. She sits up, turning so she's facing me. "That college was my entire life. I have no backup plan. I can't stay in Manhattan! I can't stay with my family!" Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes. "Why does my life have to be so fucked up?"

Then without thinking, I blurt out the plan that has been on my mind for the longest time: "Run away with me."

 **A/N: I owe you guys an apology.**

 **I understand how long you had to wait for this chapter, and I'm truly sorry about it. But a ton of stuff has happened to me this month, and it just kind of took me out of it for a while. And I'm not talking about school stuff or work stuff or whatever. I'm talking about personal problems and emotional stuff.**

 **But there are a couple things I need to write down for you guys so lets go.**

 **I LOVE STAR WARS DID YOU SEE THE NEW MOVIE (and don't hate me) I SHIP IT I SHIP IT SO HARD REYLO FOR LYFE SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE IT'S TOO HOT TO HANDLE. So it's going to happen. I literally watched _hours_ of Reylo evidence on Youtube and the facts are there. So suck it. **

**Next, I'm writing a new fanfic when I'm done with this. But it's not TMI. It's a Vampire Diaries. Sorry.**

 **Love you all, wish you the best in the New Year!**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

Clary

My eyes narrow.

"What?" I hiss. "Are you insane?"

Jace jumps up. He starts pacing the area in front of the bed. I can practically hear his mind at work, figuring out the details of his completely insane plan.

"My mom's friend owns a farmhouse in this small town right outside of Albany called Idris. I can maybe work something out with him, but it might take a while."

"Are you insane?" I repeat, trying to keep the hostile tone in my voice to a minimum. "Jace, this plan has no structure!"

He stops pacing and looks at me. His golden eyes are shining.

"No, I can make this work," he replies. The confidence in his voice is almost enough to convince me this might be a good idea. Almost. "There's an auto repair shop that I used to volunteer at as a kid. Maybe I can get a job there."

I look at the man in front of me in utter disbelief. "You're a lunatic."

Jace ignores me. "And there's a small college down there with a stable art program."

Finally not being able to take it anymore, I stand up and glare at Jace. "How exactly do you know all of this?"

He's quiet for a moment. I watch some of the energy leave his features.

"My mom went there," he says roughly. Surprise engulfs me.

"Your mom was an artist?"

Jace nods his head. He eventually looks up and makes eye contact with me. I can tell he's scared of what my answer will be. I'm too overtaken by shock for my features to answer for me. Jace has no idea.

I have no idea.

Is it a good idea? I mean, this is my dream. Get out of the city, go to a promising art school, have someone to do it with. It seems like a no brainer.

But then I think about all the other factors. What about my job at Pandemonium? What about Simon? And even though there's a college, that's not something you can just show up to. Sure, I have all the money from the many years I spent bartending, but without a partial scholarship of some sort, that won't get me anywhere. And it's probably too late to receive a scholarship anyway.

My shoulders slump. Any hope in Jace's face has completely diminished.

"I can't just run away from my problems," I say quietly. "There's no way this would work." Taking a step towards the man in front of me, I stand on my tiptoes, using his shoulders as support, and cup his cheek. "And if this somehow did workout, why haven't you done this already? What's so special about now?"

Silence.

Staring into his molten golden eyes, my heart breaks as I watch a tear slide down his cheek.

"Because for the first time, I have hope," he whispers. "I have someone to do it for. I have a reason to do it. Before I met you, I was fine with my life. It wasn't anywhere close to perfect, or even legal, but it was the best I could do. But now that you're here... _I have a reason to do better._ "

His words overtake me. Gently, I wipe the tear from his cheek.

"I love you, Clary Fray," he states firmly. "And if there's even a small chance that I can give you a better life, I'm going to take it."

A firm but soft kiss is planted onto my lips. It's short and sweet, but it gets the message across.

I can't help the giggle that escapes my lips. Jace looks at me, confused.

"I'm such a pessimist," I manage to get out between bursts of giggles. Jace's expression is still one of confusion. Shaking my head, a large smile spread across my lips. "Let's get out of here."

Jace's smile spread even wider than mine. He startles me by picking me up by my waist and spinning me around. I let out a yelp, than start to laugh.

Still holding me in his arms, I lean forward and kiss Jace. It quickly turns passionate, as he roughly drops me down on Izzy's bed and leans over me. Our mouths move together, desperate for each other. Because as of right now, we're all the other has.

Before anything can get too out of hand, I place a hand of Jace's chest. He gets the message and slowly brings his head back from my face. His gaze still lingers on my lips, and I'm also having trouble focusing.

"If this is gonna work we need to get going now," I whisper, my voice rough. My boyfriend nods.

Jace stands up, then grabs me by my hips and helps me get up from my position.

"We'll get back to that later," he whispers in my ear as he holds me to his chest. Even after all the things this man has said to me, this statement still brings a blush to my cheeks.

 _I forgot how much I missed him._

I thought that since we had that rough break between us, when we finally got to see each other again it would be awkward. I don't know what I would have done if we were apart for much longer. During the long weeks, I guess I kind of pushed him out of my mind. I desperately tried to focus on anything else besides the missing part of my life.

It's kind of pathetic to say that my life would be ruined without Jace. But that's not the case. It's not just Jace that I was missing. _It was the feeling of being free._ The feeling of being away from all the problems in my life. Being with him is like my therapy. Slowly working through the wounds of my life. We've both been through so much and have so much in common that it helps to be around each other.

I know that my life is messed up. I've known that for a while.

Jace's words echo through my mind: _I love you, Clary Fray. And if there's even a small chance that I can give you a better life, I'm going to take it._

That's when I realize that I would do anything for the golden eyed man holding me against his broad chest. I would take any risks to insure that he would be able to have a better life. And if taking the biggest leap of my entire life is what I have to do, then goddammit I'm going to take it.

After the revelation of thoughts flood my mind all at once, the gears start whirring in my mind.

"Okay," I state, taking a step away from Jace. I turn around to face him. "If we're really going to do this, we need a rock solid plan."

Jace cocks his eyebrow. "Really? Can't we just run in blind?"

Scowling, I cross my arms over my chest. "I would prefer not to die."

He rolls his eyes. "I think you're being a little dramatic, there."

"Well, you never know!" I reply, scoffing. "I'd rather know exactly what I'm getting into before I run away with you and change my life forever."

Jace sighs. "I see your point."

I can't help the small smile that graces my lips. I'm reminded that, even though we have our similarities, we are both _very_ different people.

"First things first," I declare, taking my phone out of my pocket. "I want to talk to this friend of yours."

 **-Superheroes-**

We decide to ditch the party. Jace and I were able to sneak out of the penthouse and walk to his apartment. Settling ourselves in his kitchen, we start to put our plan together.

After making a very time consuming call with Jace's mom's old friend, he was finally able to convince him to let us stay there for at least six weeks, which according to him was plenty of time for me to get admitted to a school I have no idea how to get into. Jace is also convinced he'll be able to find a good paying job in the area.

As he takes care of a call to the bank, I sit down and find a map on my phone of the place I'm going to. _Idris._ It's a little over two hours away from New York City. The town is a decent size, about 15,000 people. After I look up the town as a whole, I start researching the art school.

 _Alicante Art Institution._ The college is the size you'd expect from a school in a small town. But as I read more and more about it, I'm pleasantly surprised at how _good_ it seems. Some really well known artists have graduated from there. The school has won countless awards and has had dozens of renovations in the studios in the past couple of years. A feeling of hope courses through my body.

But now it's the time that could make everything go to hell.

My finger hovers over the tab for _Tuition/Cost Details._ Finally, I press down.

I'm almost scared to look at the number. But as I read the page, it becomes more and more apparent that this prestigious school is actually... doable.

There's just one thing.

The acceptance rate is close to none. Maybe that's why I've never heard of it before. The 'About' page says that the school is privately funded. In other words, they make their own rules. And that means that they can accept portfolios all year round.

A giddy excitement overcomes me, and a huge smile dawns my face. Even though that acceptance rate is low, sudden confidence is making itself clear in me.

"Okay, thanks," I hear Jace end the call. He turn to look at me, but pauses before he tells me what he was going to say. "What's going on?"

I hop up, bouncing on the balls of my feet. "I can do it. I can get into that school."

Jace smirks. "Yeah, Red. Tell me something I didn't know."

"The only thing I need to do is make a portfolio," I continue. "But I need to do something special. Something unique. Something different. They won't just accept any old art."

"So what are you going to do?" the golden haired man asks me after a moment of silence.

Shrugging, I answer, "I just need inspiration. Hopefully it comes to me soon. But they accept year round, so thankfully I don't have much of a deadline.

"Now I need to take care of that car rental," Jace grumbles. "So I gotta go do that. Sorry, babe. I'll be back soon."

"No, go ahead. Take your sweet old time," I tease.

Jace bends down and kisses me on my forehead. Then he walks over to the front door of the apartment, grabs his leather jacket from the chair next to the door, and walks out.

Sighing, I flop down on the couch directly behind me. Closing my eyes, I try to think of something, _anything_ , that I could do for my portfolio.

"Come on, crazy mind," I say to myself. "You can't seem to stop working any other time of day. So come up with something!"

My mind stays blank.

I try to think, hard, for a while. Eventually the focus makes me tired, and my eyes start to close.

Struggling to stay awake, I try to force my eyes open. But my attempts are futile, because soon I drift off into unconsciousness.

 **A/N: WELL HELLO THERE IT'S BEEN A WHILE.**

 **Yes, I know that it's been a while since I last updated, but I hope that this chapter satisfied your need for Clace.**

 **So if you're a fan of The Vampire Diaries (Delena, really) then you should check out my new fanfic, Double Crossed.**

 _ **I'm so close to 300 reviews. I can't believe it.**_

 **I recently started listening to Panic! at the Disco. AND I LOVE THEM. If you listen to them, let me know what your favorite song of theirs is. And, if you don't, let me know what other Alternative bands I should check out. (Note: Green Day is my second fave)**

 **I seriously love you guys so much. EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU WHO READS MY STORIES. YOU ARE AWESOME. THANK YOU.**

 **-SneekAttack101**


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. All lyrics belong to The Script. I do not own or did not write the song.**

* * *

I wake up to a warm hand rubbing my shoulder. Blinking away the sleep, I slowly sit up, taking in my dark surroundings. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the dark, and I'm greeted with the sight of Jace smiling softly at me.

"What time is it?" I groan, stretching my arms and yawning. Jace leans in and cups my face, pulling me in for a kiss. I melt at the touch of his lips.

"I told Izzy and Simon," he murmurs, effectively ruining the moment.

Immediately I become more awake. My eyes widen and pull back from Jace so I can look him in the eye.

"What?" I gasp.

He smirks. "You didn't think we were just going to leave without saying goodbye to our best friends, did you?"

Just then I hear a soft knock on the apartment door. I give Jace a questioning look as he stands up from his position on the floor and walks over to the door. As soon as he turns the handle, someone busts through the entrance to the apartment. That person being Izzy.

She wastes no time making her way straight to me, picking me up from the couch, and engulfing me in a suffocating hug. Instead of protesting, I squeeze my friend back just as tight. Tears threatening to spill over, I realize how hard this is going to be.

"Honey, we'll visit," Izzy tells me. I can hear that her voice is shaking, and I try not to let myself sob. "I have conferences in Idris sometimes. And we'll come every month, and-"

"Don't worry, Iz," I tell her, slightly pulling away from the embrace. "You'll be my best friend no matter what."

"I'm insulted," a familiar voice says from behind Izzy.

Gasping, I let my arms fall to my side. Izzy steps out of the way to reveal Simon, standing there in all his glory.

"Does our friendship really mean nothing to you?" he continues, a playful smile on his face.

Slowly, a grin makes it way onto my lips. Then I launch myself at him, jumping into his arms. Thankfully he's braced himself for the impact and manages to support my legs.

"Careful," he grunts. "I'm fine with this, but my shattered kneecap might say otherwise."

Startled by the sudden revelation, I hop down from my place up in the air.

"You're back!" I say gleefully.

"And you're leaving," he reminds me.

A wave of guilt passes through me. This was of course going to be the hardest part of this decision. Of course, I'll be with Jace,and my boyfriend is a huge part of my life. But standing before my two best friends, I'm beginning to doubt my choice. What if this doesn't work? What if I never see them again?

"Simon, I'm sorry-" I start, but the expression on his face makes my sentence die off.

"Kid, I always knew you would find a way," he tells me. "I knew that you, Clary, were destined for great things. I knew that one day you would make it out of this fucking city, with or without me." He laces his hand with Izzy. "But the thing is, both of us can follow our hearts now. Both of us can become what we've dreamed of being. You're amazing, Clare-Bear. You're a superhero."

I jump forward and pull both of the young adults into a hug. I then feel someone come from behind me and join in. Now standing in the middle of all three of the most important people in my life, I sigh in content. Things will work out. I know they will.

After a while, all of us slowly back out of the group hug. I watch Izzy wipe her tears from her eyes. Simon soothingly takes his girlfriend's hand in his and comforts her. Jace gently grabs me by my shoulders and spins me around.

"I have one last surprise for you," he whispers into my ear.

Jace reaches into the pocket of his leather jacket, taking out a crumpled piece of paper. Hesitantly, I take it from his hands. As I smooth out the paper, it becomes clear that it's been ripped from a recent newspaper. I read the headline:

 _Murderer Caught in Manhattan_

And right under the bold headline, a picture of my brother. Quickly, I keep reading.

 _Jonathon Morgenstern was recently charged for robbery and murder of Stephan Herondale-_

My gaze snaps up to look at Jace. He doesn't look happy, but he doesn't look upset either. His expression seems... satisfied.

"How?" I manage to get out.

"I guess he was following me at some point in time," he explains, rubbing the back of his neck. "Makes sense, since he literally hates me for the matches I would beat him in. Anyway, I guess he went a little psychotic and decided that killing my dad would be the best way to get to me."

"It worked," I find myself saying softly. A look of guilt appears on his face.

"Yeah, it did. He took advantage of the fact that my father was drunk at the time, killed him by beating him up in his apartment, then dragged him out into the alley. He then took what money my father had on him, which was actually _my_ money that I gave him, and left him to rot."

I let the story sink in. "How'd they figure it out?"

An evil smirk crosses Jace's lips. "Alec was already investigating him, trying to bust him for all the drugs and abuse he's been bringing to New York. All it took was some tracking of whereabouts, a hell of a lot of security footage, and putting two and two together."

Silently, I examine Jace. There's no sign of discomfort whatsoever in his features.

"Are you..." I trail off, almost afraid to finish the question.

"Okay?" Jace finishes the sentence for me. "Yeah, actually, I am. It kind of kills two birds with one stone. Taking care of your ass face of an abusive brother, and delivering justice to my father's killer."

Standing on my tip toes, I reach up and place a small kiss on my boyfriend's cheek.

"Come on, you two love birds," Izzy coos from her spot on the couch. It's time for one final party in NYC together."

Cautiously, I take a seat next to my friend. I watch Simon, who is standing in the space in front of us, take his violin out of his case.

"I'll be right back," Jace says, walking to his bedroom. A couple minutes later he returns carrying a guitar.

"What is going on?" I whisper to Izzy. She just grins and shrugs to reply.

Sitting in silence, I watch the two men in front of me adjust their instruments. Then Simon starts playing the tune I know so well. It's a melody he wrote for me a while ago; one he often pulls out when busking.

To my surprise, Jace quickly joins in, strumming chords on the guitar. The tow instruments sound lovely, and I smile as I listen to the song. _My_ song.

Then Jace starts to sing:

 _All her life she has seen_

 _All the meanest side of me_

I think of Jace and his terrifying outer appearance. Tough and brooding, strong a powering.

 _They took away the prophet's dream_

 _For a prophet on the street_

I think of my brother, who got all my parent's attention from day one. Destroying my life to make his better.

 _Now she's stronger than you know_

 _A heart of steel starts to grow_

Jace's voice is melodic and smooth, filling each word with so much emotion.

 _All his life he's been told_

 _He'll be nothing when he's old_

I think about what Jace told me what his father would say to him. Horrible things that made him feel insignificant.

 _All the kicks and all the blows_

 _He won't ever let it show_

I think about all the bruises he's had to hide in his lifetime.

 _'Cause he's stronger than you know_

 _A heart of steel starts to grow_

Jace's eyes lock with mine before belting out the next lyrics.

 _When you've been fighting for it all your life_

 _You've been struggling to make things right_

 _That's how a superhero learns to fly_

 _(every day, every hour, turn that pain into power)_

I'm stunned at the powerful lyrics and the sense of power that runs through my veins as I listen to the song.

Simon sings the next part:

 _She's got lions in her hear_

 _A fire in her soul he's a got a beast_

 _In his belly that's so hard to control_

 _Cause they've taken too much hits, taking blow by blow_

 _Now light a match, stand back, watch them explode_

This time Izzy and I both join in on the chorus:

 _When you've been fighting for it all your life_

 _You've been struggling to make things right_

 _That's how a superhero learns to fly_

 _(every day, every hour, turn that pain into power)_

The two men continue to play the instrumental part of the piece. Memories flood my mind as the lyrics of the song directly connect with my life.

Jace finishes the song, singing the final words softly:

 _When you've been fighting for it all your life_

 _You've been struggling to make things right_

 _That's how a superhero learns to fly_

The apartment in silent for a moment. I look to my side to see that Izzy has tears streaming down her face. Before anyone can say anything, Simon does something that no one was expecting.

Reaching into his back pocket, I watch him slowly take out a little black box. My breath catches in my throat when I realize what's about to happen.

Jace's jaw is hanging open, staring at Simon. Izzy's eyes look like they're about to fall out of her head. I see her hands literally shaking, as she continues to stare slack jawed at her boyfriend.

"Isabelle Lightwood," my best friend begins. A whole new round of sobs come from her as he slowly bends on one knee. "You've made me the happiest man alive. Our relationship is truly real and special, and you've saved me from a life on the streets."

Even though they're obviously not directed at me, his words make my heart melt.

"Before I met you," he continues, "I was nothing. As soon as I looked into your eyes, I knew that I needed to become the man for you, even if it meant completely turning my life around."

Izzy lets out a squeal. She slowly lowers herself onto her knees so that she and Simon are looking eye to eye.

"I know that we're young," Simon says. "But these past few weeks have proved to me that life is too short. And I don't think I could live another day without knowing that you're going to be a part of it."

He open the small black box with shaking hands. The ring inside is small, but Izzy isn't even looking at it. Her eyes are locked on Simon's.

"Izzy," he finally asks, "will you marry me?"

"YES!" Izzy screams. And with that she launches herself onto her boyfriend-now fiance- and they start making out right in front of us.

"Ew," I hear Jace mutter under his breath. Glaring at him, I hit him in the arm.

"Shut up," I whisper. It doesn't take long for a smile to reappear on my face. "This is adorable."

Jace wraps an arm around my shoulder and pull me into his side. He ruffles me hair, then leans down and plants a kiss on top of my head.

"Just wait, Red," he whispers. "Soon that'll be us."

As I stand there engulfed by the warmth in of my boyfriend and watching my two best friends cry while making out, it suddenly click. I know exactly what I'm going to draw.

Different phrases from the night whirl around in my mind.

 _It's time for one final party in NYC together._

 _You're amazing, Clare-Bear. You're a superhero._

 _Every day, every hour, turn that pain into power._

I close my eyes, letting myself enjoy my final night in New York City.

 **A/N: Guys I just wrote the Simabelle proposal I didn't even know I needed. Completely unplanned.**

 **SO DID ANY OF YOU EXPECT THAT TWIST WITH THE MURDER KIND OF?! That was my original plan, but then I scrapped it, but then I put it back in because I thought you guys deserved a satisfying ending. I'm sorry if it didn't make since, I had no time prior to put the clues in there for you.**

 **IF YOU GUYS LIKE VAMPIRE DIARIES GO CHECK OUT MY NEW STORY CALLED DOUBLE CROSSED 'K THANKS.**

 **One more chapter guys. One final chapter. And then it's done.**

 **EXPECT MORE CLACE STUFF! I have ideas for one-shots, so if you're interested there's no shame in following me ;)**

 **I love you all. Seriously, I couldn't have written this with out you!**

 **-SneekAttack101**

 **(PS: if you have any ideas for one shots, feel free to either out them in the reviews or PM me!)**


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

It wasn't hard to steal a car, get out of the city, and find the house we were staying at. The hardest part was the looking back at everything and realizing that I was leaving the only world I knew behind.

We walked to the subway station early morning. The ride was a bit scary, due to the fact it was still dark out and we were riding in a nearly empty train, but we got where we needed to go.

Jace's buddy hooked us up with fake ID's and a fake license plate which we were able to use to get ourselves a car.

After that, all I had to do was try not to slap Jace for the foul language coming out of his mouth. New York City traffic is nothing to shake a stick at, and when someone has a temper as short as Jace's, you're due to hear some interesting comments.

I squealed when we finally got out of the city. I still can't believe I'm really doing this.

No, not I, _we._ I owe all of this to Jace. Without him I would probably be stuck working at Pandemonium for the rest of my life. But now I have a new source of motivation. I'm going to make myself a life I'll be eager to get up to. And I'm going to do that with Jace by my side.

I find myself humming as the area around us becomes more and more rural. Soon the road we're driving on is surrounded by farm land on both sides. Eagerly soaking everything in, I can't tear my eyes away from this completely new scenery for even a moment.

"It's almost time," I hear Jace say gruffly. It's enough to briefly break the trance I'm in. Turning to Jace in confusion, I see the smile he has on his face.

"What do you mean 'it's almost time?'" I ask. His smile becomes wider.

"Just keep watching."

You don't have to ask me twice.

Returning to my former activity, it takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the still dark sky. After all, it's only just nearing six o'clock.

I reach over to turn the radio on, but Jace lightly slaps my hand away.

"Just wait," he says simply.

Rolling my eyes, I stare straight ahead.

That's when I see it.

The first morning rays of light from the sun are peeking out over the horizon, turning the grey sky into a slight golden color. Clouds roll across the sky, contrasting with the light.

"Look!" I exclaim, leaning forward in my seat. Glancing at Jace, I immediately notice the knowing smile on his face.

"Welcome to your first country sunrise, Red," he tells me, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel.

That romantic little bastard.

No words are exchanged as we both fixate all of our attention on the nature in front of us. I watch every second of it. I see the sky turn a variety of colors, and the light stretching out across the land making everything turn golden. The tall yellow grass seems to illuminate when the sun touches it. I imagine the sky as a blank canvas being filled by the different shades of purples and pinks. The ground looks like it has caught on fire, brightness from the sun's rays touching every blade.

Closing my eyes for just a second, the image appears in my brain. It's not just an ordinary sun rise to me. It's _my_ sunrise. It's the first time I've seen day break without it being blocked or ruined by buildings or invasive sounds.

"I found it," I breathe.

I can feel Jace's gaze of confusion on me. Turning my head, a huge grin slowly spreads across my face. "I found my inspiration."

 **-Superheroes-**

Over an hour later, we enter a small town with a sign that says, _Welcome to Idris!_ with a dancing piece of corn on it. I earn a glare as I snort when I see the sign.

It takes us almost twenty minutes to navigate through the town. Jace takes many wrong turns, which results in me laughing at him, which results in him trying to ruffle my hair, which results in us getting lost yet again. But I don't mind. In my point of view, we have all the time in the world.

The outside of Idris is full of smaller houses with quite a lot of land belonging to each one. Most of them have some sort of livestock, almost all of them have a barn. As we journey further into the town, we're greeted by a very quaint street of shops and apartments. After we pass through that, we enter a very suburban part of the town. There are different rows of houses, none too big, but not super small either. In short, Idris is my dream home.

As it looks like we're about to exit the town, I wonder if we're in the right place. Jace keeps insisting he knows exactly where the house is, but I honestly believe we're in the wrong place.

That is, until we find the house.

It's right on the edge of town, almost parallel with the _Hope to See You Soon!_ sign. It's the largest house, maybe even the largest building, in the entire town. It resembles a farm house of sorts, colored white with white picket fences. The house is placed on a sort of hill, almost secluding it from the rest of Idris.

Butterflies dance in my stomach as we slowly drive up the steep driveway. As we pull up in front of the house, I notice something a little strange. There are at least half a dozen other cars parked here. Was our host having some sort of party?

Jace doesn't seem fazed by it at all. He kills the engine and hops out the car, leaving me sitting shotgun trying to calm myself down.

I jump when Jace opens the door for me. "You coming Red?" he teases. But I guess when I don't respond, he notices that I'm fidgeting.

He bends down some so he's level with me. "Are you okay?"

Sighing, I look down in my lap. "Just.. was this the right choice?" I blurt. "Did I do the right thing?"

To my surprise, my boyfriend laughs. "Honestly? I have no idea."

I look up, cocking my head to the side.

"Sure, this entire thing was a risk," he explains, running a hand through his hair. "But what's the point of taking a risk if it's not going to work out?"

Reaching over me, Jace unbuckles my seat belt. "Don't worry, Clary. Everything is going to be okay."

Smiling, I slide out of the car. I slam the door, then walk to the back so I can retrieve my suitcase from the trunk.

Jace and I walk to front of the house. I ring the doorbell. We hear a loud crash come from inside, then a yell, and the door opens.

I expect to see the man that Jace had talked about, but instead I'm greeted with a young girl, no older than fourteen. Blonde hair, brown eyes. She's wearing all black and chewing gum.

"'Sup?" she greets, a goofy grin appearing on her face. Then she turn and looks directly at me."I'm Emma."

"Emma! Get back here!" I young boy shouts from inside. I get a quick glimpse of a boy about that same age dressed in similar apparel, before he yanks the girl we just met away from the doorway.

"Julian, I swear to the mother fucking-"

" _Language!"_ I hear a deep male voice call from inside.

Since the door has been left swinging wide open, I peek my head inside. Just then, two small girl come down the stairs. But as soon as they see us standing in the doorway, they run back upstairs.

Jace and I stand awkwardly in confusion as we watch a variety of people come and go in front of the door.

Emma suddenly reappears in front of the door. Her blonde hair is messed up, shirt ridden up, and eyeliner smudged.

"Luke will be here in a second," is her simple reply. She turns to walk away, but quickly turns around to face us once more. "Jace, you still owe me ten bucks."

Then she's gone.

"What the hell is happening?" I ask, looking up at my grinning boyfriend.

"Welcome to the Idris foster unit," he says.

My mouth falls open. "We're living in an _orphanage_?" I reply.

Jace shakes his head. "No, it's what Luke does. Takes in teens or children with troubled pasts, gives them the attention and care that a normal orphanage wouldn't be able to provide."

"Jace!" a man appears in the doorway. He's extremely tall with facial hair and totally jacked arms. I think he would have been too intimidating for me, if it weren't for the smile lines on his face.

My boyfriend and this man (who I presume is Luke) embrace as I stand there awkwardly. He then turns to me, extending his hand.

"You must be Clary," he says. I watch him look over me with some sort of sadness in his eyes. I grasp his hand and firmly shake it.

"Thank you, for letting us stay here," I say. "I promise we'll be out of your hair as soon as possible."

Luke laughs. "It's okay. I'm happy to help you in any way I can."

After inviting us inside, Luke immediately starts to lead us up the stairs.

"Right now there are about fifteen other kids living in this house right now," he explains as we walk. "Since there are so many at the moment, I hope you two don't mind sharing a room."

"Not at all," Jace and I both say at the same time. Luke stops to turn around and give us a look, but then we're back to walking.

After going up three flights of wooden stairs, we come face to face with a pale blue door.

"It's pretty big, two queen sized beds, a window, small bathroom, and closet. If you need anything, let me know. I'll be downstairs in my office."

Luke leaves.

Jace and I stand there in front of the door. Finally, I open it, revealing a small room nicer than anything I've ever lived in my entire life. The room is bright, and I'm pleasantly surprised to see a mini art studio set up right against the window.

Silently, we unpack our stuff. No words are exchanged as we carefully set the little we brought with us up around the room. It only takes a few minutes to get ourselves situated. Then we both flop on the bed, and let out a gigantic sigh in unison.

I lace my hand with Jace's, and he brings mine to his mouth and gently kisses it. Closing my eyes, I breathe, content.

"I know this isn't ideal," my boyfriend murmers, his hot breath tickling my wrist. "We'll be sharing this house with about twenty other people, far away from everything, barely any money-"

"This is amazing," I say in a barely audible whisper. I roll on my side so I can look at Jace. "''We'll make this work."

Sitting up, I climb on top of my boyfriend and place a gentle kiss on his lips. His hands immediately go to hair, pulling my head down so I can't pull away. Jace then sits up, so now I'm straddling him.

As we continue to kiss, I realize I wouldn't want this any other way.

 **-Superheros-**

We've at the house for five days. I've met everyone, but I still can't remember anyone's name, besides a couple of really sweet kids that have taking a liking to me. Most of the people who live here are young teenagers that have either been abandoned or have run away. I learned that Jace's mother helped Luke start the place, and he felt like he owed her. That's why he was letting us stay here.

Last night when I was helping Luke clean up the kitchen after dinner, I questioned him about the art school. He told me that Jace had already informed him about it, and he was happy to help me with my portfolio to apply. The next morning I found a whole array of different paints, watercolors, and pencils spread out on the dining room table. I thanked him, since they must have cost him a fortune. Luke waved me off, telling me that since Jace's mom had gone there, he got special connections after she passed.

Jace got a job at the mechanic down town. They were desperate for new employees since the other shop in town shut down, so they were willing to hire him on short notice and without much training. He works from nine to four, so I have a large portion of the day to myself. That's when I work on art.

So here I am now, in my room, preparing myself for the inevitable: a mess.

I found as many sheets and tarps as I could around the house, and I managed to cover a lot of what I needed to. But with what I'm planning to do, it probably won't be enough.

Gripping the paint brush between my fingers, I carefully dip it in the yellow cream paint. Then I slowly back up, about four feet away. Facing the canvas, I take a deep breath and-

 _Flick!_

Throwing my brush forward, the paint flies off of it and lands on the canvas. As I expected, half of it lands on and around it, but just the right amount has placed itself in the exact right place.

It will take me a while to get used to it, but this is the best it's going to be for now.

I decided exactly what I was going to do for my portfolio. I was going to draw it how I saw it. Instead of just doing a regular old sunset that any artist could pain, I decided to do it how I saw it through my eyes: an explosion of color and magnificence.

I get the hang of it pretty quickly, and soon the feeling is natural. I fling different paints onto the canvas, then use a brush and my fingers to blend it and get it the exact texture I want. It's tedious work, and I'm having trouble keeping it neat and tidy. But even though it doesn't look exactly like a sunset, I absolutely love it. The colors Luke gave me blend really nicely, and it's exactly how I imagined it to turn out.

I painted the grass to look like flames, so it looks as if the Earth is on fire. The top part of the sky is black, and the rising sun seems to be eating up the darkness. I made the sun's rays look like long fingers that were reaching up and grasping the sky; pulling itself up.

"Hey, Clary, I'm-" I hear Jace stop in his tracks. "What the holy fuck did you do to this room?"

It's only now that I realize how bad the mess I made is. Glancing around the vicinity of the canvas, paint is splattered in all directions. Luckily most of it landed on the tarps I had laid out.

Deciding that not answering would be the smartest choice at the moment, I keep my mouth shut. Jace's walks fully into the room, and his footsteps come nearer and nearer.

 _"Holy shit."_

Jace is right behind me. Both of us are staring at the now filled canvas. He spins me around so I can see him.

"Clary, that's _amazing,_ " he says. The compliment makes a blush rise to my cheeks.

Jace pulls me into his body and gives me a strong hug. Then I realize that he's covered in sweat and grease.

"Ew! You're filthy!" I exclaim, pulling away from him. He laughs as I attempt to clean myself off. Thank God I'm wearing a smock.

Looking at the clock I see that it's almost six. I was really painting all day?

"I'm going to shower," Jace announces, beginning to pull his shirt off.

I grin. "Wait up. Let me join you."

 **-Superheroes-**

 _"What is wrong with you?"_ I hear a shrill scream from the stairs. The voice of Emma is unmistakable. No doubt Julian, once again, stole something of hers.

Groaning, I slam my book shut. Hopping up from the chair I was sitting at in front of the window, I make my way over to the bed where Jace is laying.

It's nearing nine o'clock, and apparently Jace is exhausted from his long hard day at work. That, or the magnificent shower sex we just had. Ever since that one night almost a week ago, it's something we do it seems every other night.

Hopping on the bed, I perch myself on my knees and look down at the man lying there. His eyes are closed, and his shirt is off.

"I have a theory," I state. Jace doesn't answer, but that's to be expected. He usually doesn't. I continue, "Julian and Emma are made for each other, and they're going to start dating as soon as they turn fifteen."

This time I get a small grunt in reply.

Rolling my eyes, I lay down on my stomach right next to him. I then start tracing patterns into his large bicep. I smile when I feel him shiver.

Deciding to be a little mean tonight, and move my finger delicately up his arm and towards his collarbone. I reposition myself, sitting up slightly. Then my finger dips down, swirling around his chest. It moves passed his chest, down towards his stomach, past his abs, and then down-

Before I know it, Jace has sprung to life and pinned me under him. I lose my breath for a second as his golden eyes stare down at me from above. Those eyes... I could stare at those eyes all day.

"You bored?" he asks huskily. Slowly, I nod my head.

To my disappointment, Jace leaves his position from on top of me.

"Grab a coat and some shoes," he says, sliding off of the bed. "I want to show you something."

I do as I'm told, then follow Jace out of our room. We go all the way down the stairs, trying not to make any noise. Some of the younger kids are trying to sleep right now. Confusion washes over me as we head out the front door. Jace leads me around the side of the house, into the side yard.

Jace lays down in the grass. When he gestures for me to lay down with him, I don't.

"What's wrong?" he asks. I can tell he's trying not to laugh.

A warm breeze blows my hair to the side. I look down at my boyfriend, smiling. "Nothing," I state. "I just like this view."

A smirk makes its way onto Jace's lips. "I promise you'll like the view better from down here."

I kick off my shoes, the cool grass tickling my feet. I then lay down next to Jace and look up.

A tiny gasp escapes my lips.

The night sky is beautiful. Darkness is just beginning to take over the sky, so purples and pinks still dance through the clouds. But the one thing I'm really watching is the appearing stars that twinkle above.

Jace and I watch the sky until there are only stars, the moon, and planets visible in the night sky. It fascinates me. I never though that the night sky could be so bright.

 **-Superheroes-**

It's finally time. The summer is coming to an end, but from the weather you could never tell. Jace spent the summer getting extra hours added to his shift so he could make more. He's now able to pay Luke to let us stay here for a little while longer, even though he insisted he was happy to let us stay here for free.

As for me, I sent in my portfolio.

It was required to send in four pieces of original artwork, plus an essay about our inspiration behind our art. After the sunset, I did a pastel drawing of the sky that Jace and I watched that night. I made it milky and bright, from the point of view of my eyes that night. Slightly blurry around the edges, as the wind had made me a bit teary eyed.

I then did a charcoal drawing of Simon, Izzy, Julian, and Emma. I showed love in different ages. One from a young perspective, one from an old perspective. I focused on their hands, all four of them joined together in the similarity of true love.

Finally, I drew the most beautiful image of them all: the golden eyes. I used different pigment that Jace helped me mix to paint this one. The way I displayed them made it look like the light at the end of the tunnel, the angel's eyes glowing in the dark. It took me hours to shade them just right, and to mix the right combination of colors to get his unique gold color.

I was ecstatic when I got the acceptance letter yesterday. I had screamed so loud that I woke seventeen year old Ivan, who could sleep through a hail storm. Jace had started crying, which I later teased him about. Both of us were extremely happy.

Later that night, Jace had finally agreed to start taking online college courses. I had been bugging him for weeks, trying to get his schooling back on track. I was surprised when he finally agreed.

"So here we are," Jace whispers, snaking an arm around my shoulder.

"Here we are," I reply, leaning my head on his shoulder.

Jace had grabbed his guitar and lead me to the large hill in the back yard. We're sitting on the grass, watching the sky.

"I love you, Jace," I tell him, rubbing my hand on his leg.

"I love you, Clary," he responds.

We sit there, engrossed in the sunset.

Jace picks his guitar up from the ground and starts playing the chords to the tune he had played for me what seems like so long ago.

 _When you've been fighting for it all your life_

 _You've been struggling to make things right_

 _That's how a superhero learns to fly_


End file.
